Two Months Later
by Bonesafile
Summary: This is a sequel to The Alcohol in the Agent that delves into the consequences of Booth and Brennan's night together. What, if anything, does he remember?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Apparently people are curious about what happened after the night that Booth and Brennan spent together. Did he remember? Were there any consequences? Here's my shot at answering those questions. Enjoy!**

**As always, I don't own Bones...**

**Two Months Later**

[Sequel to The Alcohol in the Agent]

**Chapter 1: The Artist's Apoplexy **

"Angela, do you have a minute? I think I may need some advice."

The artist abandoned the work on the desk in front of her, looked up at her best friend and smiled in gleeful anticipation. "I hope it's something juicy. All I do these days is eat, sleep and run to the bathroom." She rubbed her stomach lovingly. "I need to live vicariously through someone and given the way you've been acting the past couple of weeks, I choose you."

Startled, Brennan responded with agitation. "Have I been acting strangely?"

"I didn't mean to upset you, Sweetie. Sit down. Let's talk."

Brennan took the chair opposite her friend's desk, leaned forward and put her palms down on the wooden surface. "Ang, what have I done lately that diverges from my normal regimen?"

Angela took a moment to reflect. There were so many little things and some not so little. Some that Brennan wouldn't even acknowledge as being unusual, like the overly nurturing behavior she'd been exhibiting off and on towards the interns. Wendall had asked Angela just yesterday, only half-jokingly, if Brennan had undergone a religious awakening. Angela focused on one that she knew Brennan would concede was not typical behavior.

"You've been humming."

"Humming?"

"Humming. Just a few unrecognizable tunes under your breath. But Brennan, you never hum."

"No," she said, deadly serious. "I don't hum, do I? I have always thought it a pointless waste of breath. If you want to sing, just sing."

Angela rolled her eyes and laughed. "People often hum when they are happy. That's what Hodgins and I decided it must be. You are very happy about something. We even have a bet."

Lost in thought, Brennan dully repeated, "A bet?"

"Sure, I decided that something must have happened with Booth. He seems to be getting over that debacle with Hannah, and it's felt like the old days between the two of you, including the lingering stares and casual touching, so why not take it to the next level, if you both are willing, I mean." Angela peered at Brennan, seeking some clue in her friend's face to confirm her theory. No response. She sighed in resignation. "On the other hand, Hodgins thinks you have a line on exciting new research. A trip to some exotic dig site."

The artist put her palms together in a praying position. "Please tell me I'm right! It's worth a luxury spa visit after the baby's born if I'm right. Have you and Booth decided to -" She made quotes with two fingers on each hand. "Go there?"

Brennan's eyes cleared and she looked directly at Angela. "No, Ang, Booth and I haven't decided to go anywhere."

She sucked in a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Angela squealed. "Oh My God!"

Brennan made a hushing movement with her hands. "Ang, please, no one can know yet."

"Oh My God!" Angela exclaimed, more quietly this time. "So, it's not Booth's? What are you, a month or two along? The timing's not right, it can't be Booth's."

"I'm nine weeks and it is Booth's."

"Oh My God!"

"Will you please stop saying that, Angela."

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm just..." Her voice trailed off. She slapped a knee with her hand. "Did you go through with it then? The artificial insemination using Booth's, using Booth's..."

"Semen? No. I didn't use artificial means for the conception."

Angela blinked, confused. "Not artificial...then, how?"

Brennan tilted her head to one side and waved a hand in the direction of Angela's belly. "Surely I don't have to tell you how it's done."

Angela shrilled another "Oh My God!" before she could stop herself. Contrite, she slapped a hand over her own mouth to smother any other involuntary sounds.

Hodgins stepped into the doorway. "Everything alright, Ang? You sound like you are in labor or something. Oh, Dr. B., I didn't realize that you were here." He cast his wife a wide-eyed questioning glance.

Angela shook her head and made a shooing motion with her free hand.

"Okay, then. Don't let me interrupt." Before he left though, he flashed a different look his wife's way, one that clearly communicated that he expected to get all of the details later.

Sliding her fingers from her face, Angela asked in a demanding whisper. "You had sex with Booth nine weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"Wasn't Hannah still here nine weeks ago?"

"Well, technically, no. It was the night she left."

"Oh My-" Angela started again, a huge smile spreading across her face. "Sorry. I can't believe you had sex with Booth the night Hannah left!" Her eyes narrowed. "And more than that, I can't believe you didn't tell me about it!"

"You're not the only one."

"I should hope not. If you told other people and not me, I'd be even more upset."

"No, Ang. When I said that you are not the only one that I haven't told, I was talking about Booth."

"What?" Angela yelped, thoroughly confused now.

"Booth doesn't know we had sexual intercourse either."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I have received requests to keep the angst in this one to a minimum given what we've been through on the show, so I'll see what I can do. I am hoping that, after just a bit of angst, we'll move on to some extreme sexual tension. Haven't worked it all out yet though and sometimes stories take on a life of their own, so I can't promise, but I'll do my best!**

**Chapter 2: The Morning After**

"Wow...Wow...Wow!"

While telling Angela an edited version of the night Booth had spent obstensibly "sleeping it off" at her apartment, the artist's mantra had shifted from "Oh My God!" to "Wow!"

"Is that all you have to say, Ang? That's not very helpful, given the problem at hand."

"Sorry, but it's just so _The Way We Were _and you got to be Barbara Streisand and have sex with Robert Redford! Amazing!"

"I don't know what that means."

"Oh, sorry. Just a movie..." Angela straightened in her chair and forcibly adopted a serious expression. "Okay, so I guess you would have just compartmentalized the whole episode out of existence if not for the pregnancy?"

Brennan nodded in confirmation. "When I woke up the following morning alone and in my own bed, I had already started to convince myself that it had all been a very lovely, and certainly quite stimulating dream."

Angela's lips stretched into a toothy grin. "That good, huh?"

For a moment Brennan forgot her troubles and smiled back. "That good."

"And he wasn't even really trying. My god, think how it might be when he actually puts in some effort."

The two women sat in silence for a moment, each distracted by the movie playing in her head.

Brennan suddenly felt quite warm. She bounded out of her chair and left the office, returning a minute later with a glass of water.

"Sorry, thirsty," was all she said by way of explanation.

"So," Angela said, picking up the thread of conversation that had started before they'd scampered off into fantasy land, "You're sure he doesn't remember...uh...the event?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not entirely sure," Brennan replied, casting her mind back to that morning, _the morning after_, from nine weeks before.

Despite having managed just four hours of fitful sleep, Brennan woke up only slightly later than usual the next morning. Fortunately, it was a Saturday and her only plans involved laundry and writing. She was glad that she could let Booth sleep in as well. No need to rush that interaction.

An hour later, though, showered and dressed in jeans and a cotton sweater, she sat anxiously at her dining room table, staring at the blank screen of the laptop in front of her. The anticipation was eating away at her. Until Booth got up, her personal and professional life hung in the balance. If it all blew up in her face, she could end up losing her best friend and her partner. On the other hand, if he didn't remember anything, they could begin to rebuild in the wake of Hannah's departure. She tapped her fingers on the desk, what was it to be?

She blamed herself entirely for the situation in which she found herself. She'd had ample opportunity to stop what had happened, but she'd chosen not to and now she'd have to face the consequences. She refused to dwell on the fact that the sex had been amazing. It really was completely different with someone you loved. She'd never experienced... No, not going there.

Pushing back her chair with a bit too much force, Brennan strode into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. In her agitated state, she knew she didn't need the caffeine, but Booth would probably want some when he got up.

"Good morning, Bones."

Startled, she dropped the bag of coffee she'd been holding.

"Sorry." As Brennan squatted down, Booth moved to help, but stopped when she held a palm up in his direction.

She spoke without looking up, her gaze intent on the mess on the floor. "It's okay Booth. I'm just a bit jumpy this morning. We had a lot to drink last night, if you recall." She hoped he couldn't hear the tentative question in the last three words.

Booth lowered himself into a chair. He wore his pants and shirt from the night before, unbuttoned to mid-chest, no shoes or socks.

"Yes, Bones, that I recall." He grimaced. "That and what went before." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Though the last thing I remember clearly is doing shots with you at the Founding Fathers. How did I get here?"

Brennan exhaled the breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding and finally turned to face him. She swallowed. He looked so good with his hair mussed and his shirt half-open. _Focus, Brennan! _

"I put you in a cab, but you refused to go home, so I brought you here."

"Thanks, Bones. That couldn't have been easy. I appreciate you taking care of me. I was pretty pissed off with the world."

"Not the world Booth. You narrowed it down to the female sex and then to Rebecca, me and Hannah. Perfectly understandable given the circumstances."

Now it was Booth's turn to hold up a hand. "Yes I was angry. I don't want to talk about it though. I'll move forward as I always have. Put it all behind me." He looked at her questioningly, confusion coloring his features. "I just hope I didn't do or say anything too out of line."

Bones would never lie to Booth so she remained silent. That wasn't the same as lying, was it?

Dumping the spilled coffee grounds into the sink, she fiddled with the coffeemaker and got a pot started. A minute later she walked over to the table, put a steaming mug down in front of her partner, and took the chair opposite him. "How are you feeling today? Physically, I mean."

Booth tilted his head and stretched his neck, tentatively at first, then with more confidence he rolled his head around in a circle. He looked at her suspiciously. "Now that you mention it, I have a vague memory of you forcing something down my throat. Is that why I only have a dull headache this morning rather than feeling like someone is sticking me in the eyes with ice picks?" His eyes narrowed and a horrified expression crossed his face. "You didn't feed me fried canaries, did you?" He asked, remembering their conversation of only a few days before about exotic hangover cures.

She smiled indulgently. "No, no canaries. Aspirin, lots of water, a couple of other organic ingredients."

As she spoke, Booth's expression changed. He first looked relieved but then his brows furrowed. He appeared to be trying hard to remember something. Brennan braced for the worst.

"Are you okay, Booth?"

His eyes shifted and he focused once again on Brennan, "What? Oh, yeah, fine. Just have that odd feeling of something prickling at the back of my brain. I'm sure I had a wild alcohol induced dream last night but at this point I can't remember much of it." His gaze grew more intense as he pondered. His eyes moved from Brennan's face down her body and back up again. Brennan felt herself skin prickle under such determined scrutiny.

She grabbed his cup, "Let me warm this up for you." She felt the still-warm liquid from the half-full mug slosh over her fingers as she stumbled towards the coffeemaker.

"Are _you _okay, Bones?"

"Much like you. Dull headache. Too little sleep." She paused. "Strange dreams. We'll both be okay once we re-hydrate."

She turned around with the refilled mug and found Booth staring at her again. Instead of giving the coffee back to him, she placed it on the counter and reached into the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water. "Coffee is a diuretic, so actually not a good idea for someone who's dehydrated." Nothing like the mention of bodily functions to derail Booth's train of thought.

She walked back and pushed the bottle at him. "Take this water bottle and keep drinking." The plastic bottle hit the exposed skin of Booth's chest. He yelped and jumped out of the chair.

"Bones!"

"Sorry," she said, knowing she didn't sound quite sincere. At least for now, she'd thwarted contemplation of the "dream," which had been her intention. "How about if I drive you home?" She motioned towards the laptop. "I have some work to catch up on."

"Yeah, I guess I should be going."

In her haste to get him moving, she'd momentarily forgotten his reluctance to go home the previous evening. "That is, if you are okay with going home. If not, you are welcome to hang out here, of course, but I thought you might want to shower and change."

Booth paused for a moment, a thoughtful, introspective look on his face. Then his face lit with a weak smile. "You know, Bones. I don't know what you did last night, but it seems to have been a cure for the mind as much as for the body. For some reason I can't identify, I feel okay. Not great, but okay, which is better than I thought I would feel for quite a while. I know it will be hard to go home and see the apartment without Hannah's things in it, and it will be a long time before I can even think about putting my heart out there again, but somewhere inside, I have the feeling that it's all going to be okay. It's you and me again, Bones. No distractions, no complications. And, for now, I'm fine with that."

Brennan smiled back. "Me too. I'm fine with that too, Booth."

"You guys are so cute!" Angela exclaimed.

Brennan blinked, refocusing on her friend. "The last two months have been good, Angela. As you noticed, back to the way things used to be, only better. I have caught him looking at me oddly from time to time, but he hasn't said anything else about the dream he had, so I thought I would never have to address it." She gestured at her still flat stomach. "I have to tell him, Angela."

"But you're afraid."

Brennan nodded. "Terrified, but resolved. We are going in the field this afternoon to investigate that cabin you tracked down as belonging to our prime suspect. If we can prove the murder occurred there and find adequate forensic evidence to link to Schaffer, we'll be able to close the case. I was thinking that when Booth and I get together for our usual post-case celebration, I'd tell him then. I need your advice as to what to say. Booth has implied that sometimes I'm a little too abrupt, so I thought you could help me figure out a more subtle approach."

"Happy to, but don't you two usually go out drinking after a case? How has that been working? Haven't you known about your condition for a month or more?"

"I've known for sure for six weeks. My menstrual cycle has always been a bit irregular so I didn't contemplate this scenario until I began to undergo other bodily changes. Since I've known, I've stayed away from alcohol. On one occasion," she smiled proudly at the memory, "I told Booth in great detail about the detoxification process I was undergoing at the suggestion of my yoga instructor. He didn't ask after that when I chose to forgo alcohol. Besides, I think he blames his impetuous actions with Hannah on over-imbibing, so he hasn't been drinking much either. We've been eating out or bringing in take out more than hanging out at the Founding Fathers."

"Why now, Brennan? You've waited over a month. Why the sudden urgency?"

"I had planned to wait until the end of my first trimester, because, as you know the greatest chance of miscarriage occurs during that period of gestation. But at my appointment yesterday, the doctor said I was due to have a sonogram in a couple of weeks. She anticipates that we'll be able to hear the baby's heartbeat at that time. I would think Booth would want to be present at that milestone. I calculated that if I tell him now, he may return to a reasonable state of mind by the time of the sonogram and make a suitable companion. I don't think Rebecca included Booth in all of the stages of her pregnancy, so I want him to have the chance this time. If he wants it, that is.

Angela grinned. "Oh, he'll want it all right. Whatever happens between the two of you, I have no doubt that he'll want this baby."

"Yes, I believe so too. But I would like not to alienate him at this juncture, at least so far as that may be possible."

Angela stood up. "I'm hungry, Brennan. Let's go to a quiet restaurant with large quantities of food and we'll figure this out. I already have a few ideas."

The two friends took a long lunch and came up with a plan designed to break the news to Booth in a positive way.

Unfortunately, as the expression goes, the best laid plans often go awry...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Twists in the Road**

"What do you want to have for our celebratory dinner tonight, Booth?"

Booth glanced sidelong at his partner. He couldn't take his eyes off the road for too long as it was narrow and had a lot of twists and turns, but he wanted to gauge her mood. Since when did Bones ever declare a case over before all the evidence was examined and logged?

He couldn't detect any outward difference in her but something was off. She exuded a nervous excitement that could not stem from the horrific case they were investigating.

A young woman's skeleton had been found in a landfill a few days before. The Jeffersonian team identified the woman as a twenty-three year old model who spent a lot of time in the company of a number of men, one of whom was Raymond Schaffer, a wealthy local businessman who was in the middle of a very contentious and expensive divorce. Hodgins had identified particulates found on the victim as being unique to a certain mountainous area in West Virgina. Angela had employed her computer skills to peel away numerous dummy corporations and connect a remote cabin in the area to Schaffer. The cabin had been tidied up, but Booth and Brennan had used luminol to expose areas of blood residue, including on a fireplace poker that met the specifications for the murder weapon. They had a lot of tests to run and an arrest to be made before he would contemplate a celebration.

"Bones, it's not like you to close a case before all of the results are in. Are you just anxious to have dinner with me," he teased, "or is it the food that's the draw? You have certainly been snacking a lot more than usual lately."

Brennan shifted in her seat and looked out the window. "Oh, you think I'm jumping the weapon on this? You may be right, although based on the number of exhibits we collected surely there is something that will tie directly to Schaffer. I guess I'm just feeling optimistic today."

Not just today, Booth thought. She'd been very happy lately, sometimes almost euphoric, smiling and trying her best to crack jokes. He'd wondered fleetingly whether she was dating someone, remembering all of the men who had sought her out on Valentine's Day. Then he recalled that she'd been spending most of her free time with him since Hannah left, even including Valentine's Day. When would she have time to date? He acknowleged that the thought gave him a certain sense of satisfaction. Right now, they were happily single together and it was working well. He'd thought that Valentine's Day would be a horribly depressing occasion that he'd just have to endure, but Bones had cared enough about him to give him one of the greatest experiences of his life. Shooting those Tommy Guns and making the day all about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre had been a stroke of genius. And she was a genius, a beautiful, caring, wonderful genius.

He knew it was too soon to re-open the idea of pursuing something more with Bones, though he had to admit the thought was occurring to him more and more often these days. Each casual touch, each shared laugh, triggered a need in him that seemed even stonger than it had before he'd left for Afganistan. He found he always wanted to be with her, both during working hours and after. And there was that dream that he couldn't shake. Sure, he'd dreamt of his partner before, but never had the dream been so vivid, so tactile...

Booth inhaled deeply and drew his attention back to driving. He'd be glad to be down the mountain in a mile or two. The road was quite treacherous. He saw that there was a white van far behind him now, only the second car he'd seen on this mountain road since they began their descent from the cabin.

"It's jumping the gun, Bones. And, yeah, just a bit. But I hope you are right. I'd like to put this one to bed myself." Booth inwardly cringed, why in the world had he used that expression? He had to stop thinking about that dream.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brennan's head turn back to look at him. He didn't have time to process the questioning look in her eyes before he noticed the white van closing the distance between them at an unusually high rate of speed.

"What the hell?" Booth exclaimed, pressing heavily on the gas pedal to avoid getting hit from behind. "Hold on Bones!"

Brennan reached up to grip the handle above the door. "Booth, what's going on?"

"The guy behind us is suddenly in a big hurry. I'd pull over and let him pass if I could but this road doesn't have a shoulder. He could go around me if he wanted. The curves are blind but we haven't seen another car in ages."

"You did call the local police to have them come secure that cabin, so we should be seeing them going in the other direction at some point. Also, if the driver tries to pass you, that will put the van on the drop off side which is quite dangerous. "

Booth increased his speed even more and the SUV started to screech with each turn. "No more dangerous than what he's doing now! Bones, take my gun out of the holster and undo the safety. If this guy gets any closer, I want you to fire a warning shot out of the window."

Brennan managed to grab the gun just as they felt a bump against their rear fender.

The SUV swerved to the other side of the road and the driver's side scraped ominously against the guard rail. With great effort, Booth yanked the wheel and got back into the right lane.

Brennan lowered the passenger window and leaned her upper torso out far enough to get the van in her sights. The thought of a warning shot had dissipated the moment they'd been bumped. She knew she needed to stop this guy.

The SUV was still swerving around bends, so Brennan had to hold on with one hand to keep from falling out. She tried to aim and took a shot but missed their pursuer entirely.

"Bones, get in the car! I just wanted you to fire in the air to scare him. I can't slow down and you are going to fall out!" Booth could not keep the panic from his voice. He reached a hand out to grab the back of her jacket, but couldn't control the car with just one hand, so had to return his grip to the steering wheel.

"One more shot, Booth. I'll get him this time."

She aimed again as best she could and fired. The windshield shattered and Brennan, still leaning out the window, whooped her pleasure.

The pleasure was short-lived however as the van, speeding, careened out of control.

This time it hit the SUV full force in the rear, pushing the government car through the guardrail and over the embankment.

**AN: Okay, I know I am going to take a lot of flack for leaving it there, but somehow this story invites cliffhangers (no pun intended). Don't worry, it is all going to be okay. For those who want a hint, the direction I am going in right now takes its inspiration from one of the last scenes in the movie "Airport" and involves the subplot with Dean Martin and Jacqueline Bisset. Anyone remember that? Don't know why this fic and the one before have been inspired by old movies, but so it goes. I am hoping to move in the direction of "Love with the Proper Stranger" next (Natalie Wood, Steve McQueen), but don't know if that will come to pass.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I don't usually update this often, but had some time on my hands over the long weekend. It may be more of a wait until the next one, I just didn't want to leave you all hanging over a cliff for too long, so to speak.**

**Chapter 4: Treatment**

"Is there anyone down there? Can you hear me? I'm coming down."

Booth stirred, lifting his face away from the airbag. He blinked and turned his head. Images started to come into focus. Outside of the shattered driver's side window, he saw trees. He looked to his right and saw...nothing. No glass in the passenger side window, no passenger in the seat.

"Bones!"

He moved to unhook his seatbelt but was constrained by the airbag.

"Sir, are you alright? Don't move, we'll get you out." The door was yanked open by a fresh-faced police officer wearing an expression of grave concern.

Booth put his left arm on the man's shoulder and allowed himself to be dragged out of the SUV. He felt blood trickle down his face and had a burning sensation in his arm, but he ignored all of that.

"My partner. We have to find my partner. I think she fell out of the window when we went over the side."

"Sir, you are hurt and probably in shock. You should sit down until the parametics get here. We called them as soon as we saw the skid marks. We'll look for your partner."

Ignoring the suggestion, Booth moved to search around the other side of the SUV. He staggered slightly due to his injuries and the throbbing pain in his head. The officer who had helped him and an older policeman who just arrived at the crash site followed close behind as he started to push his way through the trees.

"Bones! Where are you Bones?"

Suddenly he stopped short. The two men in his wake almost crashed into him. "Oh God."

Booth rushed to where Brennan lay. She was unconscious, positioned awkwardly half on top of a low shrub. Booth pressed his fingers against the side of her neck as he'd seen others do. He closed his eyes and prayed to feel a pulse.

"She's alive," he breathed, collapsing next to her on the ground. He glared up at the officers. "Get the parametics here now!"

Twenty minutes later, Brennan, still unconscious, was strapped onto a backboard and loaded into an ambulance for the short trip to the medivac helicopter that was waiting at a nearby airport. Trauma cases from this area were routinely flown to larger hospitals nearby. When the EMTs learned that the patients were FBI agents - Booth hadn't corrected this assumption as it pertained to Brennan - they'd chosen to have the helicopter fly to Washington Hospital Center in DC.

In the ambulance, one EMT attended to Brennan while the other tried to assess Booth's injuries. The agent made this process difficult with his refusal to leave his partner's side and his constant questions.

"How is she?"

"Do you know the extent of her injuries?"

"We really don't know anything definitive yet, Agent Booth, although I can tell you that her vital signs are strong except for some fluctuation in her blood pressure. She also appears to have a broken arm. Do you know if there is someone, a spouse or parent, who can make medical decisions on her behalf should she remain unconscious?"

"I can. I have her medical power of attorney. Not with me though. I don't carry it with me. Do I need to have it?" He knew he was babbling, but his head was pounding and he felt nauseous, both from the accident and from fear for Bones.

"Agent Booth, we need to treat you now. If you will be called upon to make decisions for Dr. Brennan, you need to be able to focus. You really can't do anything to help her right now. She's stable and nothing is likely to change until we get to the hospital and do further assessments. Let us clean your lacerations and give you something for the pain."

Booth agreed, as long as he could still watch Brennan while they fussed over him. He winced as they pulled shards of glass from his arm but had to admit to feeling better once the process was over.

They soon reached the airport and while the crew readied the helicopter and got Brennan settled inside, Booth called the Jeffersonian on his cell phone.

"Angela, I don't have much time, so please just listen. Brennan and I have been in an accident. We are being airlifted to Washington Hospital Center. I need you to meet us there with a copy of her medical power of attorney. It's in the top drawer of her file cabinet where she keeps her personal records. Angela, are you there?"

"Booth, are you two alright? Why are you being airlifted?"

"I am fine, just banged up. Brennan is unconscious right now, but the EMTs said that her vital signs are good. The only thing they know for certain is that she has a broken arm."

Booth heard a soft hiccup at the other end of the phone and knew that Angela was crying. With effort she pulled herself together and croaked, "Okay, Booth, I'll get the file and will leave immediately. I have to request something though. Please don't ask me to explain. Don't let the doctors do anything more than evaluate her until I get there, Booth. Promise me. I need to speak to the doctors before they start treatment."

Someone in the helicopter was beckoning Booth, so with a hasty "Sure, Angela, I have to go now" he disconnected the call.

Everything happened very quickly once the helicopter landed at the hospital. Brennan was immediately wheeled off to the emergency room for evaluation. Booth agreed to allow a doctor to briefly examine his injuries but, after receiving a shot of potent antibiotics, insisted that he be shown to a place near where Brennan was being treated so that he would be given frequent updates about his partner's condition. Twenty minutes later, a different emergency room doctor appeared in the doorway.

"Agent Booth?"

"Yes?" Booth jumped from his seat to face the tall African American woman in green scrubs.

"I'm Dr. Johnson. I am treating your partner. I understand that you have medical power of attorney."

"Yes. Someone is bringing a copy over. She should be here any minute."

The doctor waved away his concern. "We don't need any consent right now. She is stable. I believe she was quite lucky to have been thrown onto a bush when she was ejected from the car. It broke her fall. We are a bit concerned about her fluctuations in blood pressure which could be caused by internal bleeding. We are going to continue to watch her, but if her blood pressure remains erratic, we may have to operate. In the meantime, we will be setting her broken arm."

"Is she going to be okay, Doctor?"

"Nothing is certain of course, Agent Booth, but there is no reason why Dr. Brennan should not make a fast and full recovery. She is young and appears to be in excellent physical condition."

Booth felt his eyes well up in relief. "Great. That's great news, Doctor. Can I see her?"

The doctor gazed at Booth with new understanding in her eyes. "Of course, but just for a minute. We'll be taking her to radiology for x-rays."

As Booth started to follow the doctor, he heard the sound of heavy running behind him.

"Wait! Wait! Booth stop!"

Both Booth and the doctor turned to see Angela lumbering towards them as quickly as she could, a file in her hand. Hodgins kept pace behind her, anxiety written across his face.

Angela stopped in front of them, panting loudly. "Have to ... tell ...you. Important..."

Booth motioned to Angela and explained to the doctor, "Dr. Johnson, this is Angela Montenegro, Dr. Brennan's best friend. This is her husband, Jack Hodgins. Ang, it's okay. Brennan is going to be alright, although she is still unconscious. They may need to operate for internal bleeding. But all in all, her injuries aren't as bad as I feared at first. Thanks for bringing the Power of Attorney. You really should sit and rest now."

Angela was frantically shaking her head, still trying to catch her breath. She reached out and took hold of the doctor's sleeve.

"Please. There's something you should know about Brennan before you begin treatment," she huffed.

All eyes turned to Angela in anticipation of what she might say.

Angela closed her eyes, praying for strength and also praying that her best friend wouldn't kill her for what she was about to do.

"She's pregnant."

Angela felt Booth turn to stone beside her. The man had no outward reaction whatsoever, which was a reaction in and of itself. He just stood rigid, stunned, with a blank look on his face.

The doctor, on the other hand, immediately sprang into action. She pulled a notepad from her pocket and began to fire off questions.

"How far along?"

"Nine weeks."

"Do you know the name of her OB?"

"I believe its Jenna Waterston in Dupont Circle."

"Any complications to date?"

"I don't think so."

"Has the father been contacted?"

"Um..." Angela's eyes shot to Booth and then back to the doctor. "Is that necessary?"

"Probably not at this juncture. Based on everything we've seen so far, I don't think the pregnancy has been compromised. Very important that we know this in case we need to operate though. And we may also have to modify the medicines that we administer. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Blood tests would likely have caught it but best to know as early as possible. I should get back to my patient now."

She turned to the unmoving FBI Agent. "Agent Booth? Do you still want to follow me back? Agent Booth?"

Slowly, Booth felt the shock fade away, replaced by a sudden understanding.

Pregnant.

Nine weeks.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then focused his gaze on Angela. The artist was watching him intently, clearly trying to read his expression.

Booth spoke slowly, his voice shaking with emotion.

"It wasn't a dream, was it Angela?"


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks everyone for so many nice reviews and for all the alerts! I have become a bit addicted to finding emails in my box, which inspires me to keep writing. So, to continue with the theme of inspiration from old movies, we have here just a taste of Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind (after the staircase scene). Or, if that means nothing to you, think of Edward's reaction the morning after the wedding night in Breaking Dawn. **

**Chapter 5: Planning for the Future**

She felt his warm hands on her bare skin, running up her sides, cupping her breasts.

Then his mouth, nibbling her ear, tracing a line down her neck, then lower, drawing a swollen nipple into his mouth, circling the nipple with his tongue.

She moaned.

"What is it, Bones, are you in pain?"

Pain? What she was feeling was the opposite of pain. Heat, desire, need, but no pain.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She knew she had to open her eyes to shut off the alarm, but she had no desire to interrupt the activity very much in progress at that moment.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

With sudden clarity, she realized that she no longer felt the weight of his body on hers. He must have gotten up to shut off the alarm. She reached out to pull him back down -

Brennan's eyes shot open as a sharp pain surged through her arm.

"Easy, Bones. Don't move so much. You have a broken arm and other injuries. You need to lie still."

She was not surprised to find herself in bed but did feel a bit disconcerted to see Booth standing a few feet away, rather than lying next to her, or better yet, on top of her.

Brennan focused on the worried face of her partner, the same one that she had seen so clearly filled with a completely different emotion just a moment ago. As she did so, his words registered and she realized that they weren't comfortably esconced in her spacious bed, but rather she was alone in a narrow hospital cot. The beeping wasn't an alarm but rather a heart monitor.

"Booth? What happened?"

Booth grimaced and ran a hand through his hair in obvious agitation. "We were leaving Schaffer's mountain cabin and a van started to chase us. You leaned out of the window and shot out the windshield of the van after it bumped us. The driver, who turned out to be Schaffer by the way, lost control and hit us full force which sent us over an embankment. Apparently, you went out the window on the way down."

Brennan nodded slowly. "I remember most of that except that the trauma seems to have caused amnesia regarding the actual impact." She noticed the blood on Booth's shirt and the bandage on his arm. "Are you alright Booth?"

He smiled wearily. "I fared much better than you did. I staying in the car and the airbag deployed. Just some cuts and bruises."

"I'm glad you weren't badly injured." She tentatively wiggled her shoulders and moved her head back and forth. "My injuries likewise do not seem very severe, so I would think they'd let me go -" She stopped talking, a look of horror spreading across her face. "Oh, no!" She lifted her good arm and circled it protectively around her abdomen as best she could given the iv line attached to the top of her hand.

Booth's eyes shifted away. "The baby's fine, Bones." He stepped back from the bed, as if he could no longer stand to be in close proximity.

Brennan exhaled in relief at her partner's words.

When Booth didn't seem inclined to talk further, she focused her gaze on him, trying to gage his reaction. He was standing rigid, staring out the window, opening and closing his fists. She knew that reading people's body language was not one of her many talents, but even without Sweets' help, she could discern that Booth was furious. Anger was one of the reactions to the news that she'd anticipated, but given her current physical state, she did not feel particularly well equipped to deal with it at the moment. She'd have to attempt it though.

"Booth, I was going to tell -"

He turned to face her, but would not meet her eyes. His color was high and his voice was low and steady, which Brennan knew boded much worse than increased volume. "I can understand why you didn't tell me, Bones. I wouldn't blame you if you never told me, given the circumstances. I can't imagine how it felt these past weeks, how you could even stand to be around me. I've already started to make inquiries regarding a transfer."

Perhaps her injuries were worse than she realized, because Booth's words made absolutely no sense. Did she have some sort of aphasia? She struggled to form an appropriate response.

"Booth, what are you -"

Again he cut her off. "I've been thinking since I heard the news. I remembered a couple of years ago when you decided you wanted to have a baby, my baby in fact. You wanted complete responsibility for the child, so that is what I am going to give you. I know that you would never take your feelings out on the child, even considering the..." His voice broke and he turned completely away from her now, staring blindly out of the window. "...the circumstances of conception."

"The circumstances of conception! Booth, what are you talking about?" Agitated, she pushed the button to elevate the head of the bed. "The circumstances of conception, which I assume you now recall in some sense, were just fine. Better than fine, actually. Quite extraordinary."

Booth spun around and glared at Brennan, his voice rising as his control started to slip. "Extraordinary! Your head injury must be worse than they said, Bones! I was drunk out of my mind and I forced myself on you. For all intents and purposes, I ra-"

"Booth!" Brennan hissed. "Don't you dare continue!" She felt her face color with heat. She was angry now, very angry. "How can you say that! You are insulting both of us with such an assertion!" The monitor by the bed started to beat more quickly, indicating a rapidly accelerating heart rate.

He took a step forward, his fury supplanted by a renewed concern for his partner's condition. "Bones, calm down. You are hurt. Perhaps we should have this conversation later, when you've recovered more."

"No! You started this." Her words were clipped, but she was no longer yelling. "We are going to finish it. Now." Her jaw was clenched so tight, it was difficult to force words out. "You are about to take a beautiful memory and destroy it beyond repair and I am not going to let that happen."

"Beaut-" He sputtered.

"Yes, beautiful. There are two critical elements here that you are not taking into consideration." She tried to hold up a finger to illustrate each point, but thought better of it when she felt the weight of the cast. "First, I am extremely proficient in martial arts. Had I wanted to remove you from my person at any time, I could have easily done do. You were not aggressive in the least given your level of inebriation. I choose not to for reasons that are my own but which I will be willing to share with you at a time..." She stared into his face, taking in his incredulous expression, "when you are thinking more rationally."

"Second, and most importantly, to me at least, in spite of your inebriation, I made certain that you knew with whom you were having sexual intercourse." She saw Booth flinch at the words, but continued none the less. "You said my name, Booth. You said my name so I knew that, whatever your level of consciousness, I wasn't serving as just an available body for you to use to drown your sorrows. You knew who you were with and at every moment along the way, I was right there with you. So, if you don't remember those details, you need to think a little bit harder. As you are aware, I am not prudish in the least and will be happy to describe each moment of the encounter to you, as I do remember it all with exacting precision." _Especially as I've been reliving it in my head over and over in the past weeks,_ she added to herself.

Acute terror lit Booth's eyes and he held up a hand to signal her to stop the narrative.

"Okay then, I will defer to your more delicate sensibilities" she said with a quirk of her lips, feeling appeased at the sight of his panic. Booth could be so uptight when it came to sexual matters. "Suffice it to say that I enjoyed myself immensely and, in fact, given my currently raging hormones, I had been hoping that we'd...well, never mind, in light of your reaction, I see that we have more obstacles to overcome than I'd anticipated."

Booth looked stunned, as if he wanted to believe what Brennan said but couldn't let himself. He'd spent the last few hours beating himself up so much, how could he be let off the hook so easily?

Brennan sighed, sensing her partner's waning resistance. Not quite acceptance, but the self-flaggellation had ceased. She relaxed against the pillows, tired now.

"Search your mind, Booth. Try to really remember what happened," she said sleepily. "You are an extremely skilled lover, even when you are putting forth minimal effort. It was very good. _We _were very good."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Booth pulled a guest chair up to the bed and sat down. Leaning foward, he reached out a hand and pushed a few errant strands of hair off of her cheek. "Get some sleep now, Bones. We can pick up this discussion after you've had some rest. You and the baby need it after all you've both been through."

She smiled contentedly as her eyes started to close. She felt irrationally happy at the inclusion of the baby in his show of concern. Perhaps everything would work out afterall. A thought was nagging at her brain though, preventing her surrender to sleep. Something she had decided to say once Booth knew about the baby. What was it?

Brennan forced her eyes open. "Booth, want to ask you something..."

"Shh, Bones," he traced soft circles on her arm, "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Important..."

"Shh now."

Her eyes closed again, but her mouth was still moving.

"Booth, if you've given up the idea of asking for a transfer ... would you consider getting married?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Where the Road Leads**

Booth sat in the chair by Brennan's hospital bed, hunched over, his face in his hands. He needed to process all that had occurred in the last 24 hours, but his brain seemed to be on overload. On top of that, he was exhausted and agitated at the same time. Every few minutes he gave in to the need to jump up and pace around the room. Then, the bone-weariness would overtake him and he'd slump back in the chair.

A nurse had come in a while ago and told him that Brennan would likely sleep for hours, given the trauma she'd been through along with the pregnancy. She'd explained that women often slept more than usual in the first trimester. Another fact to store away. He recalled that he hadn't been near Rebecca often enough during her pregnancy with Parker to have a real sense of the day to day impact the condition had on the body.

"And there are other changes, too," the nurse had said, a smile lighting up her broad face. "Hormonal." She looked him up and down, then patted his shoulder in reassurance. "You should be able to handle those dear."

He started to say, "We're not-" but the nurse had left before he could finish. He didn't know if it was true in any case. Were they together? They were always together, as in, spending time in each other's company. But they were not together, together, as in, a couple. Or were they?

Time to pace again. He stood and turned, nearly colliding with a petite blond woman in scrubs who had apparently just entered to room.

"Agent Booth?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Jenna Waterston, Tempe's obstetrician. I've examined her chart and am happy to say that I agree with the ER doctor's assessment that the pregnancy has in no way been compromised by the events of the day." The woman's manner was brisk, no nonsense, right to the point. Small wonder Bones had picked her, Booth thought.

"Thank you, Doctor. I know that Bon...er...Temperance will be pleased to hear your opinion."

"Yes well, I can't stay at the moment as I am in the hospital for another patient in labor, but I will come back in a few hours. Tempe may be awake by then, but if not we'll rouse her long enough to do a sonogram, just to reassure everyone."

Booth didn't know how to respond to that. Would he be allowed to attend? The idea of seeing the baby struck him like a bolt of lightening. Until that moment, he realized, he'd pushed all thoughts of the baby out of his mind. He'd been crazy with concern over Brennan's condition and then, when he decided to do the right thing and let Brennan be a single parent without his interference, as he'd thought she wanted, he'd purposefully avoided thinking about the life that would be a cross between his brilliant and beautiful partner and himself. But if Bones really meant what she said about wanting him involved, he could let go of the restraints.

They were going to have a baby! What an extraordinary thought!

He grinned at the doctor, "That sounds like a good idea."

"Tempe had mentioned that she'd likely be bringing you to the sonogram we have scheduled in four weeks, so you are welcome to attend this one if you like. Leave your cell number with the nurse's station so that we can contact you when I return, if you aren't here. It could be as late as nine or ten o'clock." With that, she left the room.

"Excuse me, Doctor?" Booth said, taking a few quick strides to catch up with the doctor in the hall. She didn't slow her forward motion but did turn her head to acknowledge him.

"Temperance? She told you about me?"

"Not a lot, but I will say that she is very excited to, how did she put it, 'have the opportunity to co-parent with you.' She seems quite relieved that you've been through it all before. Although she intends to read every book ever written on the subject - her words again-," the doctor looked amused, "she knows that books cannot anticipate every scenario. She is very happy to have a partner with, quoting again, 'field experience.' Your girlfriend is extremely analytical and thorough. It has been quite an education treating her so far," she concluded with a jaunty shake of the head. They had arrived at the elevator bank and Dr. Waterston pushed the button.

Automatically, Booth opened his mouth to respond "She's not my girlfriend" but checked himself and merely thanked the doctor as she headed off to attend her other patient.

Booth stood in the hall, once again at loose ends. He decided to leave his cell phone number at the nurses' station and take a short walk, perhaps find the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee. He hadn't eaten for hours and, though he had no appetite, he knew he should get something. He hoped that one or a combination of these activities would help clear his head.

As he moved down the hall, he saw people glancing at him and then shifting away, sometimes giving him a wide berth. He looked down and saw the blood stain on his shirt. Small wonder the odd looks. He continued along the hallway until he found a lounge where cell phone use was permitted and went in.

"Sweets, it's Booth."

Booth heard the sound of a television being lowered in the background. "Agent Booth, is everything alright? Do you need me at the office?"

"Everything is okay now, Sweets, but I am calling to ask a favor. Can you go to my apartment and pick up a change of clothes for me? I'm at the Washington Hospital Center."

"At the hospital!" the pitch and volume of Sweets voice rose so high that Booth pulled the phone away from his ear for a second.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan and I had a car accident but I've been completely patched up and Bones seems to be fine as well, but they want to observe her overnight to make sure. I think Angela and Hodgins went off to get her some clothes but I didn't think at the time to ask them to stop by my place. I plan to stay here until they release Bones."

"Sure, no problem, I'll go right away." Booth proceeded to give Sweets instructions as to where in Booth's office he could find a spare key and what clothing to bring. They agreed to meet in an hour in the hospital cafeteria. If Booth wasn't there when Sweets arrived, he was to text and Booth would come down. He also told Sweets to phone Cam to make sure that she knew what was going on. Angela may have told her before she left the Jeffersonian that afternoon, but Booth wasn't sure, given Angela's state of mind at that point.

He slowed his steps...the thought of Angela brought his mind back to the subject of the pregnancy. He felt a surge of pure happiness at the thought.

A baby.

With Bones.

For the moment, he was not going to dwell on that odd remark Bones had made just before falling asleep. It was probably the head injury or the drugs talking. Bones didn't even believe in marriage for goodness sake.

Yes, definitely the pain killers talking.

Still, in light of what the doctor said, Bones seemed to want him involved in the pregnancy.

He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. In spite of the tortured road they had taken to come to this place, he felt excitement building within him. When had he and Bones ever done anything the easy way? That train of thought led him back to the night two months ago that he'd spent at Brennan's apartment. He shuddered as the feelings of self-loathing threatened to overtake him again. He started to walk with no particular destination in mind.

Then, he suddenly heard Brennan's voice in his head.

_You knew who you were with and at every moment along the way, I was right there with you. So, if you don't remember those details, you need to think a little bit harder._

_Search your mind, Booth. Try to really remember what happened...It was very good. We were very good._

Arriving at the cafeteria, he went through the motions of grabbing a sandwich and a cup of coffee. Sitting at a table, he stared blindly out of the window and cast his mind back to that fateful night. This time, he forced himself to consider that there might be details that he'd ignored the last time he'd thought about the night that was destined to change his life forever.

The memories were odd, not typical pictures in the mind. These were memories of touch, of skin, of wet. He remembered the feel of her body under his as he rolled on top of her. How right it felt to press himself, hard and demanding against her.

That was the point at which he'd cut off his memories the last time he'd try to recall what had happened. These recollections clearly showed that he was the aggressor, that he'd taken advantage of someone who'd been there to help him through a difficult time. He thought of Brennan's insistence that he recall the whole of what had happened. He didn't know how much more he could take, but he owed it to her to try.

Once again he felt himself on top of Brennan, seeking entrance. She said something to him and he responded. The whisper of her breath tickled his ear, but his brain was too foggy to register what had been said. Had she asked him to stop? He gripped the coffee cup hard in frustration. He needed to remember. He worked to calm his mind and brought his thoughts back once again to the feel of Brennan's skin. He was touching smooth skin, his hand skimming up her side to her breast.

She started to move then, to squirm. Was she trying to get away?

Another physical memory came to him. A hand. Her hand. She was reaching between their bodies. He almost moaned out loud as he remembered the feel of her hand as it slid inside his shorts and gripped him. She moved then, rocking her hips against him encouraging him to join their bodies.

She really had wanted him!

He exhaled in relief.

Relief and arousal. He closed his eyes and tried to regain his composure.

He was in a public place after all.

"Hey G-man! Everthing okay?"

Booth opened his eyes to see Angela standing next to him, a broad smile on her face.

"I just checked on Brennan and they said she's doing great. Sleeping now though, so I decided to try to find you." She assessed him closely, not missing his flushed face and his rapid breathing.

"I also heard that Brennan woke up," she said slowly. "Did you have a nice chat? I am guessing that she was able to..um...jog your memory. All _coming _back to you now?"

"Angela," Booth said sternly. "I know that Brennan may discuss personal matters with you, but I really am not going there." He cursed the heat he felt creep into his cheeks.

"Okay," she responded good-naturedly, "no sex talk."

She pulled out a chair and sat down. "Can I ask what you plan to do though? About the baby? You do want the baby, don't you?"

"A baby with Bones! Of course I want it. I am as excited by the idea now as I was when she brought it up a few years ago. The timing could be a lot better of course. But Bones and I...we've never been very good with timing."

Angela laughed. "I'll say! You want her, she doesn't want you. She wants you, you've moved on." She paused, thoughtful. "What about now, Booth? You want the baby, but do you want Brennan as well?"

The answer came automatically, without thought. "Definitely." He tasted the word, savored how right it felt. Absolutely right. "I definitely want her."

Angela relaxed in her seat satisfied. "Finally. She wants you. You want her. I'd say your timing is about perfect this time."

Booth's brow furrowed. "Does she want me Angela? Babies, they tend to muddle people's judgement, make them say and do things they wouldn't otherwise do."

Angela rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Brennan! She asked you, didn't she? I advised her to wait. But she's all about the logic."

She adopted a tone that sounded like her best friend. "Getting married is an entirely logical response to this situation, Angela. I am sure Booth will agree completely once all the facts are presented to him." She shook her head. "So, did you agree with her factual presentation?"

"Honestly, I thought it was just the drugs talking. She was practically asleep when she mentioned it. You mean she really wants to get married?"

"Who wants to get married?"

Angela's and Booth's heads swiveled in unison to see Sweets standing next to the table holding an athletic bag over his shoulder.

Booth took swift action to distract the psychologist.

"Sweets!" he said, standing up and lightly clapping the younger man on the back. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

He grabbed the bag and set it on the table. Unzipping it, he made a show of rummaging through the contents.

"Who wants to get married? Brennan? Is it because she's pregnant? Who's the father? Is that who she wants to marry?"

Booth hushed Sweets and pushed him into a chair.

Angela and Booth exchanged a glance and then they both glared at Sweets.

The psychologist held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. Sorry. I was at the Jeffersonian looking for Dr. Brennan when I happened to overhear Angela talking to Hodgins. I didn't catch much but the words "Brennan" and "pregnant" were particularly audible."

"Why did you think I wasn't talking about my own pregnancy?" Angela asked, suspicious.

Sweets reached out and grabbed the salt shaker on the table and began passing it back and forth from hand to hand. "I believe you also said something about being just nine weeks along. I'd noticed some odd behaviors in Dr. Brennan of late. In fact, that was why I decided to stop by and see her. A pregnancy would explain each and everyone of those behaviors." He looked up, satisfied by his powers of deduction. He glanced back and forth across the table, but no one seemed inclined to confirm or deny his conclusion.

"So," he continued, "now I take it that you are concerned about her because, despite her previous protestations about marriage, she suddenly sees the advantage of entering into that state. I must say it wouldn't surprise me, if the father has certain characteristics and if she loves him, for her to consider marriage an entirely logical step. As we've seen over the past few years, Dr. Brennan is able to change her most closely held beliefs if the evidence logically leads her down a different path."

Booth sat up straight in his chair, skepticism written across his face. "And what evidence would lead her to ever want to get married?"

"If I recall correctly, Dr. Brennan's chief objection to matrimony was that it served no purpose, had no point. Was merely an archaic tradition. But, I believe, if she found a point for it, a reason d'etre, so to speak, she'd overcome her objections. The fact that she's pregnant along with certain characteristics in the father might well serve, at least in her mind, to provide that reason d'etre." He said this last with a pronounced French accent.

"Would you mind explaining your point? In English this time?" Booth growled, losing patience.

"Certainly," replied Sweets good-naturedly, "With regard to the baby, Dr. Brennan would be the first to acknowledge that, sociologically, a child benefits from having a stable environment with two parents. If they are married, even better, as it serves to reduce social stigma. She had two married and loving parents until her teens herself. The key of course is the loving part. If she loves the father, she would see marriage in that case as a logical step for the benefit of the child. Also, should the father be a person who himself believes in marriage and again, if she loves him, she'd see a benefit in making him happy. All very logical."

"What about Bones, though? According to your theory, she'd be going against her beliefs solely for the benefit of others. The baby. The...father. What's in it for her?" His voice was rough, choked with emotion. He cared about Bones too much to let her compromise her standards for him.

Sweets tilted his head inquiringly, but answered without hesitation. "That's the beauty of psychological analysis. All of those reasons, those are the ones that a logical mind like Dr. Brennan's would use to rationalize her decision to change her mind, to suddenly support an institution she'd long maligned. And while those reasons are all good, and she believes in them fully, they are, I surmise, a useful subterfuge to obfuscate her true rationale."

"Which is? Damn it, Sweets, get to the point!" Booth clasped his hands together to keep from shaking the psychologist. "Why in the world would she want to get married?"

"Her own fundamental need, Booth. Her need to do all she can to prevent ever being abandonned again. Of course, marriage isn't irrevocable except..." he paused fixing his gaze on the FBI agent in front of him, "except perhaps when entered into with someone with strongly held religious convictions. I believe that a deep love, coupled with a need to feel secure, a need to do everything possible to protect against that love ever leaving, would compel Dr. Brennan to embrace marriage. She'd never admit that of course, but there it is."

Angela nodded her understanding. "In an odd, backwards Brennan-type way, that makes a lot of sense. She went through the whole 'doing it for the baby and for ...the father' thing when she explained it to me, which seemed logical when she said it, but I couldn't help wondering why _she_ wanted to do it. What was really in it for her?" She grinned at Booth. "Now I totally get it. She basically wants the whole 'til death us do part' thing. A commitment that neither party could easily walk away from. What do you think, Booth?"

"What do I think?" He murmured, as if waking from a dream. He didn't understand half the psychological mumbo-jumbo that Sweets spouted, but if Bones wanted to feel secure, wanted a grand gesture as proof that she'd never be abandonned again. That he could give her. That he would give her.

"I think...I think..." he said loudly and with great determination. "I think congratulations are in order. It looks like I'm going to be getting married."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Hormones**

Booth was stunned at the sight that greeted him when he entered Brennan's room. He expected to find his partner/maybe girlfriend/perhaps fiance sound asleep. Instead, she sat bolt upright in the hospital bed, clutching a wad of tissues in her good hand, blue eyes filled to overflowing, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sprinted to her side. "Bones, what is it? Are you in pain? Is something wrong with the baby?"

"What?" She looked up, surprised to see the look of panic on Booth's face. "No, no, nothing like that."

She went back to staring straight ahead. "If you could wait a minute though," she sniffled, dabbing at her cheeks absently-mindedly. "She's safe now and he's leaving."

Booth followed her line of sight and saw the television flickering high up on the wall. "What-"

"Shh," Brennan hissed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Booth sat down in the chair he had vacated less than an hour before. He dropped the bag he was carrying on the floor. His heartbeat gradually returned to normal as he waited for the movie to end.

A few minutes later, Brennan pointed the remote at the screen and turned off the tv. "Although that premise was entirely implausible given its basis in the supernatural, I found it very emotionally engaging."

"Obviously," replied Booth, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice.

"Booth, you should have a more open mind. It was a very good movie."

"Oh, I've seen _Ghost_ before, it was very popular when it came out. Great date movie." He narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't have thought you'd like it though. And I've never seen you cry at a movie, especially one so...so illogical."

"Yes, you are correct in that assessment. It must be the hormones. One of the books I have about the stages of pregnancy stated than many women become very emotional at around nine weeks," she said matter-of-factly. "In fact, during the movie, there was a commercial about brothers who lost contact and found each other again by using some application on the Internet. That one quite choked me up." She smiled weakly, almost apologetically, at the memory.

Booth gently removed the tv remote from her grasp and placed it on the side table. His movements were calm and deliberate, despite the surge of electricity he felt when his fingers brushed hers. "I think that's enough tv for now then. Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

She cast a secretive smile his way that set his heart racing. "I had a very diverting dream but it woke me up and I found myself in desperate need of distraction. You weren't here, so..." She waved dismissively at the television without disconnecting her gaze from his.

In silence, they stared at each other. Booth felt the heat rise in his face and sensed a similar reaction in his partner, if the flush spreading across her pale cheekbones was any indication.

She was hormonal.

What was his excuse?

It was her mention of the dream that had done it. He still thought of their night together more as a dream than reality. _A very vivid dream though._

Booth couldn't look away. He saw love, desire, and vulnerability shining out of Brennan's still moist eyes.

They had so much to discuss, so much to settle, but all he wanted to do right now was kiss her. His gaze shifted to her lips and he saw her mouth open slightly, her breathing shorten.

He rose from the chair and her head tilted up. To continue to watch his face or to give him better access? He didn't know.

Gently, Booth sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her. He reached out a hand to caress her cheek. Brennan sucked in a breath and her eyes fluttered shut as he closed the distance between them.

As soon as his lips touched hers, Booth knew that this was not destined to be the soft, reassuring kiss that he intended. Brennan's good hand, no longer encumbered by an iv line, reached around his neck and drew him closer. Brennan moaned and opened her mouth to his, her tongue demanding entry. For one second he questioned the wisdom of inciting such passion in someone who'd been knocked unconscious so recently, but the increasing urgency of the embrace erased all such thoughts from his mind. He parted his lips and met her demands with his own. His hands circled her back, pulling her so close that he could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest.

Apparently disatisfied with their level of physical contact, Brennan pushed the bedcovers off of her legs and moved to straddle Booth's lap. Booth groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed against his arousal. The thin hospital gown left nothing to the imagination.

Booth tore his lips away and growled into Brennan's neck, panting. "Bones, we can't...Not here."

Brennan tilted her head back to look at him, all the while continuing to move her hips in a rocking motion. "I'm sure no one would think twice if we close the door for a moment." Forward, back. "Or two." Forward, back.

Seeing her passion-filled expression, Booth realized that this was a battle he couldn't win. He pulled her back against him, burying his face in her hair. With waning conviction, his hands gripped her hips, trying to still them.

"Not here Bones," he breathed, giving resistance one last feeble attempt. "It's not that I don't want to-"

She responded by circling her tongue in his ear.

"Oh, God." In reflex, his hips started moving in rhythm with hers. Somehow, they were kissing again. The raspy sounds coming from Brennan's throat enflamed him even further.

"I can come back if now isn't a good time," an amused voice broke in from the doorway.

Booth pulled back immediately and had to fight the impulse to jump to his feet, which he knew would result in dumping his pregnant partner unceremoniously on the floor. Instead, he closed his eyes and willed himself to disappear before he died from embarrassment.

Bones, of course, was never embarrassed by anything, even being caught about thirty seconds away from having sex in an unsecured hospital room.

"Hello, Dr. Waterston." Brennan leaned back so that she could see the doctor, but remained firmly planted on Booth's lap. He guessed she was trying to give him a few moments to compose himself. Brennan's voice was a bit raspier than usual, but she didn't seem the least bit flustered by the interruption. "I know you are busy, so you should come in now. We can resume our sexual activity at another time."

"Bones!" Booth hissed, his eyes wide and his cheeks blazing red.

Brennan smiled, tipping her head towards the man seated beneath her. "Doctor, this is Agent Booth, whom I've told you about. Booth, this is my OB, Dr. Waterston."

"We've met," Booth replied through gritted teeth.

Apparently satisfied that time and acute mortification had served to cool the evidence of Booth's passion, Brennan slid back up towards the head of the bed and pulled the blankets up to her waist.

The doctor looked back and forth between the FBI Agent and the anthropologist. Booth thought he saw her bite her lip as if to stop herself from laughing. "Yes, I was here a while ago when you were sleeping. I told Agent Booth that I'd be returning to do a sonogram after I took care of a woman in labor. That case is not progressing as quickly as I thought it would, so I decided to come up and check you. If all is well, you can be discharged first thing tomorrow." She turned as a nurse entered the room wheeling a machine. "Shall we proceed?"

"Excellent," Brennan replied. "It is extremely fortuitous that Booth is here to participate." She flashed him a bright smile which he couldn't help but return. Her excitement was so contagious that he forgot his chagrin.

Booth stood by Brennan's side, holding her hand, as the doctor moved the white wand around on Brennan's abdomen. The two parents-to-be marvelled in unison at the small image on the screen.

"The fetus is very small right now, approximately the size of a grape." The doctor explained.

"Can you tell if it's okay, doctor?" Booth asked.

She moved the wand around some more, allowing views from various perspectives. "Everything appears to be normal. You were very lucky today, Tempe."

When the anthropologist was uncharacteristically silent, Booth and Dr. Waterston shifted their gazes from the screen to look at her.

Brennan looked much like she had when Booth entered the room a little while before. She stared at the small screen, a look of wonder on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. Booth reached behind him for the tissue box and handed it to Brennan with a smile.

Happy tears and raging lust. Temperance Brennan never did anything by halves.

The next few months were going to be interesting.

_God bless hormones..._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Very sorry for the delay but it's been a busy few weeks. I'll try to do better.**

**Chapter 8: No Tea but lots of Sympathy**

It took but a moment for Temperance Brennan to remember where she was and to analyze the problem at hand.

_The hospital._

_No tea._

_Extreme nausea._

She lay very still and tried to explore her options. She knew her body's reactions quite well at this point, even those systems that were not skeletal. A few weeks ago, when the morning sickness had first begun, she'd figured out that complete lack of movement would stave off the onset of actual regurgitation. She seldom took advantage of that fact, as she'd also learned that the quicker she got going, the quicker it would be overwith. After a bout of morning vomiting, she'd experience just mild nausea for the rest of the day. A box of Saltines in her desk drawer served as an effective remedy for that.

After a week or so of morning sickness, and the threat that one too many mornings arriving at the lab looking wiped out would expose her secret, Brennan had consulted the herbalist from who she purchased holistic remedies on occasion. Nightly cups of the tea that the herbalist provided had reduced her morning syndrome to the mild nausea she'd previously experienced in the afternoon. By the afternoon, in fact, she had no symptoms whatsoever.

Yesterday, in all the excitement, she'd completely forgotten about the tea. Now that Angela knew about her condition, she could easily have asked her to bring the tea along with her clothes, but she hadn't thought of it. Now she'd pay the price.

Without moving, Brennan shifted her eyes to assess the best path to the bathroom.

Directly in her line of vision, planted between the hospital bed and the large wooden bathroom door, sat Booth, sound asleep in one of those very uncomfortable looking reclining guest chairs. The sight of him momentarily distracted Brennan from her dilemma.

What was the expression? A sight for red eyes?

She really did enjoy looking at him. But for her immediate need, she would have been happy just to lay in bed and gaze at him for quite some time. He was an excellent male specimen. The idea of waking up to that sight everyday for the rest of her life didn't even phase her. In fact, she was surprised to find that it actually excited her. Brennan wondered fleetingly what she had been so afraid of in the past.

This was Booth. She trusted him completely. She also found him very attractive and sexually stimulating. They would have a very fulfilling and vigorous life together. Well, she hoped they'd be together.

Despite Angela's admonitions about going slowly, Brennan had been determined to bring up the subject of marriage when she told him about the baby. Of course, none of that had gone according to plan. She'd thought of it yesterday after they'd had that frustrating conversation about their sexual encounter, but by then she'd been so tired. Had she asked him? She thought she'd managed to get the words out, but she couldn't remember if he'd responded. Perhaps she hadn't actually said anything given that he didn't bring it up anytime during the evening they'd spent together.

She smiled. After that embarrassing scene with the doctor, he'd made a point of keeping his distance, as if the slightest touch would result in them fornicating on the hospital room floor. She found the fact that they had such a powerful effect on each other physically to be very promising.

Another wave of nausea flowed over her and she decided to focus once again on her options. She noted a bedpan on the nightstand to her left. She could sit up, grab the bedpan and vomit into that, but surely Booth would wake up at some point in the process. She couldn't bear to have him watch that performance.

She could make a dash for the bathroom, which would have to include a semi-circular maneuver around his chair. That made the most sense, assuming she could make it all the way to her destination before disaster struck. This plan included too many unknowns.

How sore was she likely to be after yesterday's adventure? Extremely, she postulated. One muscle cramp and she could run out of time right there on the floor.

How long would the trip take with the detour around Booth? Too long, she decided, given her recollection of previous mornings. Booth would not appreciate that type of wake up call.

Well, there was no hope for it. She'd have to go with Plan C.

Moving nothing but her left arm, Brennan reached for the bedpan.

"What the-?" Booth bolted upright, grabbing his knee. He rubbed the stinging spot on his joint, while looking around with still sleepy eyes. Seeing the bedpan lying on the floor nearby, he asked in confusion, "Did you just hurl a bedpan at me?"

"Yes, sorry," Brennan said through gritted teeth. "I need you to get out of the way. In about two seconds I am going to be very sick, and I can't get to the bathroom with you sitting there."

Despite his sore leg, bandaged arm and other residual aches and pains, Booth moved like lightening. Not only did he push the offending chair out of the way, but before Brennan could even register what he intended, he'd picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. They arrived just in time.

On her knees in front of the toilet, Brennan frantically made waving motions with her good arm, trying to get Booth to leave. Instead, she felt his hands in her hair, pulling back those strands that had come loose from her ponytail and were falling into her face.

"Don't worry, Bones, I'm not squeamish about this type of thing. I've spent more than my share of time huddled in the bathroom with Parker."

Brennan merely grunted in response, torn between the humiliation of having him see her so vunerable and the comfort of having him there. She had a fleeting recollection of her mother being with her once a long time ago in similar circumstances. Apparently, this was one of those items in the parental job description that no one thought to put into parenting manuals.

With Booth's attentions and the memory of her mother came a feeling of inner peace, a wonderful warm feeling that Brennan clung to in the face of her extreme physical discomfort.

A few minutes later, eyes closed and taking in deep breaths, Brennan leaned back on her heels, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the nausea. She knew she had a minute or two and then it would start again.

She heard Booth doing something behind her, but didn't have the will to open her eyes. The water turned on briefly. She sensed Booth beside her and then felt a cool towel gently wipe her face, her forehead, her cheeks, around her mouth. How did he know to do that? She opened her eyes to look at him and he must have seen the question in them.

"Parker always likes the feel of a cool washcloth when he's sick." He took in her sallow complexion, her firm grip on the sides of the toilet bowl. "I'm really sorry, Bones."

She gulped and then smiled. "Not your fault."

Booth raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in amusement at the denial.

Brennan had heard that women often yelled obscenities at their mate while enduring childbirth. Certainly, the male of the species played a pivotal role in fertilization but it never occurred to her to blame Booth for her nausea.

"I mean, the nausea is not your fault. It's merely a physiological response to the hormonal cha-"

Her scientific explanation would have to wait, as another bout of morning sickness rolled through.

Ten minutes and two more periods of sickness later, Brennan leaned back limply against Booth who kneeled behind her.

"I think it's over for today," she said in a quiet voice, clearly spent.

Booth kissed the top of her head. "Ready to go back to bed? You must be tired after all that. Angela is coming back around nine to help you get ready to leave," he glanced at his watch, "which is four hours away, so you have time to get some more rest."

Brennan nodded wearily.

Still supporting her back with his hand, Booth moved to Brennan's side and slipped his other arm under her knees. In one fluid motion, he rose with his partner in his arms. He winced slightly when he felt the pull of the bandage on his arm, but didn't make a sound.

"I can walk Booth," Brennan squalked in protest, but it was really just a reflex. She honestly didn't know if she could stand on her feet at this point.

Booth laid her gently on the bed and pulled up the covers.

Brennan put her good hand on top of his. "Thank you, Booth. I didn't want you to see me like that, but it did feel nice to be taken care of." Tears welled up in her eyes. "It reminded me of my mother."

With great tenderness, Booth reached out tucked and some errant hair behind Brennan's ear. His fingers lingered to briefly stroke her cheek. "It's what parents do, Bones." He flashed a mischevious smile. "You'll find that out soon enough."

Brennan looked thoughtful.

"What?" Booth asked.

"You're not my parent, Booth."

"Not only parents, Bones, of course. Parents and -" He trailed off, still uncertain as to how to characterize himself. "And...and...anyone who really cares about you."

She stared at him for a long moment.

"Like a husband, for example?"

Booth stared back, locking his eyes with hers. He knew what she was really asking.

"Yes, Bones, like a husband."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN on 4/6 - someone pointed out that I misspelled Reverend in this story so I am fixing it. Sorry! Was writing too quickly I guess.**

**Chapter 9: Finding Religion**

"That's it?" Angela asked. "That's the extent of the discussion you've had about marriage?"

Brennan sat on the side of the bed, head turned to the side so that Angela could brush her hair.

Her friend had arrived as promised promptly at nine and efficiently helped Brennan to dress. Brennan had protested when Angela offered to help with her hair, but relented when she realized that forming a pony tail would not be possible one handed. She had managed an awkward shower and shampoo with her cast encased in plastic wrapping, but that had exhausted her limited resources. Besides, she was learning that allowing herself to be taken care of once in a while could be quite pleasant.

When Angela came in, Booth left to run home for a quick shower and change, assuring them that he'd return before the doctor came to do the discharge examination.

"I believe we have an understanding, Angela."

"Perhaps you both _want _to get married, but it seems to me you have a lot to discuss before that can actually happen. More than Hodgins and I ever did." Angela paused mid-stroke and walked to stand in front of her friend.

Brennan swiveled her head back to look at her. "I don't know what you mean."

Angela bent back the little finger of one hand with the pointer finger of the other, ready to tick off the list that was rapidly forming in her mind. "Okay, how about ... when will you get married - before or after the baby is born? Where will you get married - Booth is religious, remember, he might want a church wedding."

Brennen crinkled her nose but remained silent as Angela plowed on.

"Where will you live? Your apartment is bigger but there will be the baby and also Parker to accomodate, so maybe you'll need to get a new place. Who will pay for that - you have exponentially more money, but Booth does have his pride -"

Brennan held up her good hand in surrender. "Okay, okay, I get the point. I guess we do have a few details to work out, but Booth and I have usually been able to compromise on important issues in the past. We'll just have to have a rational discussion."

"That will likely work on most topics, but when have you two ever had a rational discussion about religion? Religious faith and pure reason are extremely hard to reconcile, as the two of you have experienced on more than one occasion."

"Well, that sounds like my cue," said a pleasant male voice.

The two women looked towards the doorway and saw a balding, stocky middle-aged man holding a clipboard. Brennan blinked, thinking that her eyes were playing tricks on her. The man looked uncannily like the security guard at the Jeffersonian, Micah.

Not at all preturbed by the silence that greeted his arrival, the man stepped into the room and held out a hand. "I am Reverend Michael Greenley, a minister with the DC Unitarian Universalist church. I do rounds once a week here at the hospital." He smiled warmly and Angela stepped forward to shake his hand, quickly putting down the hairbrush on a side table.

Brennan sat silently on the bed, staring at the minister.

"Brennan?" Angela said, concern in her voice. It was not like the anthropologist to remain quiet in the presence of a religious representative.

"Sorry," Brennan replied slowly, "you look very familiar."

"I get that a lot," Reverance Greenley replied congenially. "I have one of those faces." He looked down at his clipboard. "Are you Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"Yes, but I am sure that my admission form does not request a clergy visit. You see I don't -"

The reverend laughed, his face lighting with amusement.

"Don't worry, Dr. Brennan. I am not here to proselytize. Your form was in the unaffiliated pile and I always quickly glance at that pile to see if I can be of any service. The way you filled out your form was certainly original. I was intrigued."

"How I...?" she glanced at Angela. "I was unconscious when they brought me in. Angela, did you fill out my admission form?"

"No, Sweetie. That would have been Booth."

Brennan nodded. Booth liked to hedge his bets on her behalf. If he thought her life was in danger, he might have requested a clergy visit in the same way he said prayers for her even though she didn't believe in their power.

Brennan asked the minister, "So, what did he write? 'Please come pray over her when she is sleeping so she won't object?'"

"I take it that you don't believe in the power of prayer, but that this Mr. Booth does?"

Angela explained. "Dr. Brennan is an athiest. Agent Booth is a Catholic. They are getting married."

"Angela!"

"Don't worry, Bren, he's a man of the cloth, he's not going to post it on the Internet."

The minister looked back and forth between the two women, clearly amused and curious at the same time.

"Well, this Agent Booth, despite his religious affiliation, seems to understand your sentiments quite well." He walked over to Brennan and tilted the clipboard in her direction so that she could read what was written there.

As Brennan read, Reverend Greenley explained to Angela. "There is a box for 'unaffiliated' which is what most non-practicing people check to insure that there are no unwanted visits from members of a religious group to which they do not belong. In this case however, someone drew a large X through the entire section and wrote in large letters. 'RABID ATHIEST, DO NOT VISIT AT THE RISK OF YOUR RELIGIOUS HEALTH!'"

Angela burst into laughter at this and even Brennan had to stiffle a giggle.

Angela said, "Agent Booth was injured in the crash yesterday as well. I think he was not quite himself when he filled out that form, both from the pain killers and from relief that Dr. Brennan was not in serious danger." No need to mention that he'd also been in shock from finding out he was going to be a father.

"So, you wouldn't characterize yourself as a..." he glanced back down at the form, apparently suppressing his own laughter. "Rabid athiest?"

Brennan smiled. "An athiest, yes. Not sure I am more rabid about it than anyone else who does not believe in the existence of a superior being." Angela snorted at this, but Brennan continued as if she hadn't heard. "Am I shocking you, Reverend?"

Reverend Greenley returned Brennan's smile. "Not at all. Not at all. I am a Unitarian Universalist minister. Members of our church hail from many different religious backgrounds including Buddhist and even agnostics and pagans. We have quite a few members who are non-theist. Do you know about our church, Dr. Brennan?"

"I have an academic knowledge of most religions, Reverend, but I have not studied that denomination in depth. I recall that you don't believe in the trinity. I believe the word 'Unitarian' derived from a belief in the singular nature of god."

"True, yes." He nodded in approval. "And we are much more wedded to certain governing principles than we are to the concept of god. We believe that personal experience, conscience, and reason should be the final authorities in religion. In the end, religious authority lies not in a book, person, or institution, but in ourselves."

"Bingo!" Angela interjected. "You said the magic word. Reason."

The reverend and Angela looked at Brennan for a response, but she was lost in thought. Suddenly she looked up, a sense of purpose clear in her expression.

"Reverend Greenley, do you perform marriages?"

Clearly taken aback at the abrupt change of subject, the reverend stammered, "Yes...of course..."

She explained. "Until Angela and I began speaking about it today, I actually hadn't considered a church wedding. Seeing that form..." She gestured towards the clipboard in the reverend's hands. "It made me realize how much Booth has come to respect my beliefs, even though he does not agree with them at all. And I have come to respect his passion for religion, even if I still think that Marx had it right when he said that religion is the opium-"

"Bren! That's no way to request the minister's assistance!" Angela cautioned.

But once again the minister was laughing. "That's quite alright, really. I find Dr. Brennan's views to be quite refreshing."

"See, Ang, I'm refreshing," Brennan said with pride. This was the first time she'd discussed religion with a representative of the church without alienating him or her completely within five minutes.

"If you are seriously considering marriage in our church, Dr. Brennan, we do have a few requirements that need to be fulfilled in preparation. The couple fills out a questionnaire, individually, and then meets with a member of the clergy -"

"That would be you, right?" Brennan asked with almost childlike uncertainty. Uncharacteristically, she felt out of her element and didn't want to deal with anyone other than this very accepting minister.

The minister patted her cast in understanding. "Yes, Dr. Brennan, that would be me. If you are really considering this, I should meet your fiance as well. This is not a decision to make unilaterally."

"Booth should be back soon," Angela offered. "Why don't you take a seat while I finish getting Brennan ready?"

Five minutes later, Booth arrived carring a huge bouquet of flowers. "Hello, everyone. I have returned! Are we all ready to rock and roll?" He put the flowers down on the side table and stood grinning at Brennan.

She grinned happily back. "I am not sure what music has to do with anything, Booth, but thanks for the beautiful flowers. I have a surprise for you as well."

When Brennan continued to gaze at Booth, making no move to reveal her surprise, Angela intervened.

"Yoo Hoo, guys. We don't have all day!"

Turning her head with obvious reluctance, Brennan slanted her eyes to the corner of the room where Reverend Greenley was sitting and said, "Booth, this is Reverend Michael Greenley. We had a nice discussion about religion -"

Booth spun abruptly to face the clergyman. "Are you okay? I hope it hasn't been too rough. I thought I wrote on her admission form that no visit was -"

Reverend Greenley stood up and offered a hand for Booth to shake. "On the contrary, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan and I have had a very enlightening discussion."

Booth squinted in confusion. "Enlightening? She didn't refer to Jesus as a zombie or anything?"

The reverend erupted in something that sounded like a mix between a cough and a laugh. He quickly covered his mouth with a hand and murmured, "Excuse me."

"Booth is referring to the one time I mentioned that both Jesus and zombies are said to rise -"

"Bones!"

Angela placed a comforting hand on the minister's arm. "Don't worry, Reverend. They are always like this."

"I see."

Brennan looked worried. "Are you still willing to marry us, Reverend?"

Taking in Booth's stunned expression, the reverend replied, "I think you'd better ask your fiance first if he even wants me to officiate."

Booth sat down next to Brennan on the bed and took her left hand in his. "Does this mean that you want a church wedding, Bones? You don't have to do this. I assumed we'd just go to a justice of the peace."

Everyone else in the room disappeared as Brennan gazed into Booth's eyes. "Booth, even though I don't believe in God, I know that it is important to you to have a religious ceremony and.. well... Reverend Greenley and I understand each other, I think. I hope you don't mind that it won't be Catholic, but if you are willing to get married in the Unitarian Church, it seems like a rational compromise to me."

Booth's face lit with happiness. "Thank you, Bones," he said in a voice filled with emotion.

"You only get married once, Booth. It should be as close to perfect as we can make it."

Booth's expression grew serious. "As to that. I actually did have one request...but first I should ask, when did you want to do this? Soon, or should we wait..."

"I don't see a reason to wait until after..." she glanced quickly at the minister and then focused again on Booth, "but it will take a bit of time to get organized. Plus, the minister wants us to fill out a questionnaire and then meet with him to talk about it. So, maybe two months? Is that enough time Reverend, in your experience?" She asked this last without turning her head.

"Yes, we can finish our part in a week or so if needed. You have to get a license with DC, but the waiting period for that is three days. I would say that finding an appropriate venue will be the only difficult part, but our church should have some availability if you would like me to check."

"Will that work for you, Booth?"

He nodded but his mood didn't lighten.

"What is it Booth?"

Clearly uncomfortable, Booth looked briefly at Angela and then the minister before returning his gaze to Brennan. "As you said Bones, you only get married once. I want this to be really special for us. Both the wedding and the wedding night. So I thought...I mean I was hoping you'd agree..." He took a deep breath and whispered softly so that only the woman next to him could hear. "I don't think we should sleep together until the wedding night."

The suggestion was met with absolute silence for a full minute, during which time Booth's anxiety grew.

Then, abruptly, Brennan pivoted to face Reverend Greenley.

"Reverend, we've reconsidered the timing. We'd like to get married within the week. Do you think that can be arranged?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, just been too busy. This installment is inspired by the Yeti discussion in the Truth in the Myth.**

**Chapter 10: Questions and Answers**

Booth chewed the end of his pencil and slanted his eyes to glance surrepticiously at the woman on the couch. Brennan had just grumbled under her breath for the tenth time in the past half hour and Booth didn't think she was even aware of it. She sat leaning back against the armrest, knees up, laptop propped against her thighs, but he hadn't heard typing for at least five minutes. Apparently this was the first test she'd taken in a while, possibly in her whole life, for which the answers were not obvious. No facts here, just thoughts and feelings.

He looked down at the question he'd just completed.

"What causes people to fall in love?"

Booth grinned when he thought of the answer that Bones would have written a few years ago. Something about there being no such thing as love and then going off on a long-winded discussion about pheromones and chemical attraction. She'd changed so much since then and, though Booth understood that she now acknowledged both the existence of something as unquantifiable as love as well as the fact that she had succumbed to it, he still didn't know how she would answer that question. To judge by all the mumbling, she wasn't sure what to say either.

He looked down at the paper on the table. To be honest, his answer to that question was not the one he would have written even a year ago. He'd been in love with Bones, but when she'd rejected him, he'd turned to Hannah. He'd thought he was in love with Hannah but knew now, in forming his answer to this question, that he'd fallen in love with her as part of the healing process. He'd been so sure of that love, but looking back, he knew that it had all happened too fast. And, in reality, the pace had accelerated to warp speed once he was around Bones again. Love with Hannah had become the antidote to love with Bones. But there was no antidote, because the love had never gone away. Would never go away.

_Temperance once explained to me the concept of soulmates, something about a single being with four arms and four legs being split in two and then searching for its other half. Love is when you find that other half, someone who is not the same as you, but who complements you with the pieces that you may not have, even if you don't always appreciate the differences. That is not to say that Temperance is the only person I have ever loved. Looking back now at my previous relationships, I see that I loved others because they filled a need in me that I had at that time. The difference between those loves and the one I have for Temperance is that this love somehow fills all the needs that I have and, I believe, will be able to fill all of the needs that I ever will have. _

At the feel of an arm snaking over his shoulder, the press of a cheek against his, Booth jumped in surprise. A mere moment ago, Bones had been fidgeting on the couch. Now she was pressed up against his back and running a hand down his chest. In one swift motion, Booth flipped his questionnaire over and then reached up with his right hand to stop the progress of her exploring fingers.

He'd first noticed the change during the cab ride to her apartment. He didn't know if it was their engagement, the fact that he now knew about the pregancy or perhaps just the acknowledgement that they'd had sex, but Bones was suddenly exhibiting a freedom where Booth's person was concerned that she'd never shown before. In the cab, when she'd put her hand on his thigh, he'd had to suck in his breath to keep from moaning out loud. His body's reaction had been so acute, he'd recited the Phillies line-up to himself three times in order to avoid complete humiliation. Now, with her touch on his chest, the smell of her so close, his body once again sprang to attention.

One week, he reminded himself, I just have to make it through one week.

"Bones," he said through suddenly gritted teeth, "what are you doing off the couch? You are supposed to be resting, doctor's orders."

"I'm fine Booth. I just needed a break." When she realized that Booth was not going to let her hand continue its progress, she stood up straight behind him, but didn't make any move to reclaim her seat.

A bit surprised (and maybe a little disappointed) that she'd give up on the seduction angle so easily, Booth turned his head and looked up at her with a knowing grin. "You were trying to look at my answers, weren't you?"

"This test is ridiculous," she huffed to avoid answering. "Some of the questions are inane, like 'Who will acquire whose last name, or will you keep your last names, or will you jointly adopt a new name?' - of course we'll keep our own names - but others don't even seem relevant to me." She glanced down at Booth's overturned sheets as if hoping she'd suddenly developed x-ray vision. "Why, for example, does it matter whether I am 'generally polite and courteous to others'?"

Booth smiled sympathetically. He'd realized when he'd first read that question that Brennan's honesty would compel her to answer it without subterfuge, and had understood that she might not like what she had to write.

"Perhaps you didn't get to the next question where it asks 'Are these attributes important to a smooth-running marriage and family?' which does tie it back to the whole marriage issue."

He patted her hand where it lay immobile on his chest. "I think you generally respond as the situation demands, perhaps a bit more bluntly than others might, but those who know you understand that you have the best intentions. And we all know that you would do anything for us, which is really the most important thing. Why don't you go sit back down and write something like that? With the compressed schedule we are working with here, we need to get this to the good Reverend by tomorrow afternoon so that he is ready to talk to us tomorrow night."

Appeased, Brennan returned to the couch.

Booth exhaled in relief. This new proximity - he was committed to staying close for the next few days and making sure that Brennan followed the doctor's orders to rest - was already taking its toll on him. Today was Saturday and the wedding was tentatively scheduled for the following Sunday, assuming they could get all the paperwork done in time. He wondered what the record might be for the number of cold showers taken in a week? Did Ripley have a statistic on that?

When, within a minute or so the exasperated mumbling started up again from the direction of the couch, Booth knew it was safe to flip over his questionnaire and get back to work.

* * *

As they entered the room, the Reverend beckoned the couple to sit in two guest chairs. The meeting room in the church was very pleasant, carpeted with a large oriental rug and containing a few groupings of comfortable seating, clearly designed to inspire conversation among whoever sat there.

"Can I get you any refreshments, Dr. Brennan? Agent Booth?"

When his visitors declined, he seated himself in a third chair across from them, with a small round coffee table in between on which he placed the stack of papers he carried.

Was it Booth's imagination, or was the good Reverend avoiding eye contact with them? That would seem like a bad sign to Booth, but the agent also had the sense that the clergyman was very amused and trying not to show it. Booth glanced at Brennan, who was merely glancing expectantly at the man across from her. She apparently didn't notice anything amiss.

"So," Brennan began, "did we pass?"

"Bones, you know it's not that kind of a test." Booth slid his chair closer to his partner and put a hand on her arm. Fortunately, he was sitting to her left side, so he actually felt warm skin under his hand rather than a cold cast. As Brennan was apparently free to touch him at will - much to Booth's simultaneous pleasure and chagrin - Booth had decided to reciprocate with gusto. He took every opportunity to hold her hand or put an arm around her shoulders and, judging by the way Bones squeezed his fingers or leaned into him, she didn't mind a bit.

"Surely the Reverend understands the intention of my question, Booth. He is assessing our compatibility and the prognosis for our marriage. I am merely inquiring as to whether he thinks our responses were adequate. As I noted in the margins, a few of the questions were ambiguous or wholly irrelevant-"

Booth sank lower into his chair and covered his eyes with his free hand. No wonder the Reverend couldn't look at them. "You noted in the margins, Bones!" Booth hissed. "What in the world is the Reverend supposed to think if, instead of answering, you mark up his questionnaire?"

Brennan turned in her seat to cast her partner a stern look. "I didn't mark up his questionnaire Booth, I merely made a few constructive suggestions -"

"I hope I won't have to separate you two. That would be a first for me...well the first time before a session has even started. Sometimes, once our conversations get going things can of course get a bit heated." He looked at his two visitors and smiled broadly. "Not that I anticipate anything like that to happen here. You two seem to...well...how should I put this..." Seemingly at a loss for words, the Reverend once again shifted his eyes away from his guests and glanced at the papers he had placed on the table in front of him.

Booth and Brennan leaned forward in their seats, waiting for the clergyman to complete his thought. Booth didn't think that Brennan realized that the fingers of her casted arm were now firmly gripping his arm above where he held her.

"Actually, I think Agent Booth said it best in one of his answers." He shuffled through the papers and pulled out one that had a red flag attached to it. "And I quote - _Love is when you find that other half, someone who is not the same as you, but who complements you with the pieces that you may not have, even if you don't always appreciate the differences_." He looked up again and smiled. "I must confess, I don't think I have ever read two questionnaires whose answers differ in so many respects. I'll go through a few of the answers with you in a moment. But I must say, that emerging through it all, is something I first noticed when I visited you in the hospital, Dr. Brennan. You both work very hard to understand and respect the other's opinion, even when you don't agree with it at all. And, as Agent Booth said, you truly complement each other by providing that other piece, that contrary view. That I find truly remarkable."

In unison, the partners leaned back in their chairs, relief evident. Brennan turned and flashed a broad satisfied grin at Booth.

"I told you I've never failed a test!"

Laughing, Booth rolled his eyes and squeezed Brennan's arm. At that moment, all of his doubts turned to certainty. This crazy, rollercoaster relationship was really going to work out.

Yes, it was truly remarkable.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: With heartfelt thanks to Mendenbar for the idea of having the Reverend enjoy his time with BB so much that he wanted to take them out for beers.**

**Chapter 11: A Good Laugh**

By the time they were standing outside of Brennan's apartment, Booth was laughing so hard he had to put his palms on his knees to try to catch his breath.

Brennan, smiling indulgently, unlocked the front door and then turned her full attention to her partner. "Booth, I agree that it was amusing, but I'm not sure why it has you all in sutures like this."

Booth, who had started to compose himself and rise to a standing position, suddenly exhaled a loud of explosion of breath and once again bent over, his shoulders shaking in mirth.

"Stitches...Bones...it's...stitches..."

One hand on her hip, head tilted in exasperation, Brennan said, "Yes, that's what I said. I should note, Booth, that the Reverend seemed to recover his composure more quickly than you did. Though, of course that may have been the shock."

Booth managed to stand up, but kept the wall at his back for support. He tipped his head backward and closed his eyes. "Everytime I visualize his face...," he gasped. "All those questions about sex and then...and then...you just blurt..."

Brennan leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, acknowledging that it might be a few more minutes before Booth was recovered enough to move inside.

Even she had to chuckle at the memory.

"Well, as I noted, he should have phrased some of those questions better. Too many gaps. They never come right out and ask - have you had sex? - just dance around the subject with questions like - do you expect the frequency of your sexual relations to change when you have additional demands on your time and attention, such as children?"

"Bones, as the Reverend explained," Booth said, wiping his watery eyes. His breath was a bit more regular now as he made a concerted effort to control himself. "The questions are designed to make couples think about how their relationship is going to evolve, not to get prurient details about their sex life."

"And he made it clear that you did not give any such details in your responses."

Booth's eyes popped open and he flashed a cocky grin at the woman across from him. "I take it from your tone that you are once again accusing me of having sexual hangups - but I am so not going to go there." He waggled his eyebrows. "In approximately one week, that myth will be set aside for good."

Booth took great pleasure in seeing the heat that filled Brennan's eyes and the color that suffused her cheeks at this reference.

"Unlike you, Dr. Brennan, I actually answered the question I was being asked, giving it the serious consideration it deserved."

Brennan rolled her eyes, glad to move her thoughts away from how exactly Booth was going to prove his lack of inhibitions. "It's quite obvious that a couple's sexual practices, the frequency of intercourse, will change and evolve throughout the course of a relationship. I didn't see the point in stating something so self-evident. It seemed more pertinent to me that the Reverend be aware that we were not having sexual relations and would not be having them until after we were married, at your request and with my agreement."

"Given that we are obviously not twenty year old virgins - he knows I have a son, for goodness sake - that little tidbit clearly fascinated him."

Brennan gazed into space, thoughtful. "It did, didn't it? His questions after that certainly diverged from the prepared text. I must confess that I found it to be much more useful dialogue after that point."

Booth's lips quirked but he restrained himself as best he could. "Yes, he certainly enjoyed hearing you give a brief history of each of our prior relationships in all their gory details. I thought he was going to fall out of his chair when you were talking about how you once dated two men at the same time, one for sex and the other for attending cultural events."

"You are well aware that I believe that one needs all the facts before coming to any conclusions. How could he assess the current state of our relationship without knowing how we have arrived where we are today?"

"If that is what you believe, didn't you leave out one teensy-weensy important detail?" His voice rose in pitch as he finished the sentence and he made motions with his fingers as if he were singing the eensie-weensie spider song.

She shook her head. "Not relevant to the discussion. The Reverend clearly wanted to figure out why we weren't sleeping together and what it said about our relationship."

Booth pushed off the wall and moved toward Brennan with slow, deliberate steps. Her eyes widened as he approached but she remained still, propped against the door jamb.

"And, what _does_ it say about our relationship?" he murmured in a low, very sexy tone as he stood just inches away, so close she could feel his body heat radiating in the space between them.

"Well," Brennan hesitated, feeling her breath shorten. "As the Reverend says, it is indicative of our obvious mutual respect." She gasped as his lips grazed her forehead, then the side of her face with light, feathery kisses that sent electric shocks through her with each separate touch.

"And?," he purred, his mouth close to her ear now.

"And, what?" she repeated, completely losing her train of thought.

"What...else...did...he...conclude?" He asked, planting a soft kiss on her neck with each word. He really did like this new freedom to touch that Bones has initiated. And boy, did he feel like touching her now - what with all that talk about sex and then her unusually close proximity in the cab on the ride back to her apartment. Yes, there were limits, but sometimes you just had to test them.

She tilted her neck to give him better access and he could feel her lips curl into a smile as she answered.

"He...umm...he said that he could tell that sexual attraction...uh...was not the issue and was therefore even more impressed by our commitment to each other." She could feel his body straining against hers and she moved her good hand up to both caress the back of his neck and pull him closer. "Booth...it's...ah...it's not that I want you to stop," in fact the fingers combing through his hair were sending the exact opposite signal, "but I really don't see how this can end well given our... um...decisi-" she broke off with a groan as his tongue circled her ear.

Booth allowed himself a few more moments of blissful torment, finally making his way to her lips for one mind-blowing kiss before reluctantly stepping back. Panting heavily, they stared back at each other, eyes glazed with arousal.

In unison, they both smiled.

"No," he gulped, "sexual attraction is definitely not the issue. Just wanted to be absolutely sure of that."

"Ow!" he exclaimed when Brennan batted him playfully with her cast.

His expression grew serious as he noted the shadows under her eyes. It had been a long day.

"I think you need to rest now. Let's go in."

He slipped an arm around her back and ushered her inside towards the couch. "You sit and I'll see what there is for dinner. Since we blew off the Reverend's invitation, it looks like I'll have to feed you," he said as he headed into the kitchen.

At the mention of the Reverend, Brennan's mind pictured the man as they'd left him in that last moment before setting off in a cab. She started to chuckle and, on hearing Booth call "What?" from the kitchen, burst into unbridled laughter.

"The Reverend!" she hooted. "The poor Reverend! Do you think he'll ever recover?"

Remembering their last exchange, she laughed even harder.

* * *

"I don't know when I've ever enjoyed a counseling session so much," the Reverend said as he walked them out into the fading sunlight. "In fact, if you aren't too tired, would the two of you like to join me for a quick beer? Off the record, I would love to pick up a few of the threads that we started in there. Your cases together sound quite thrilling."

"A beer?" Booth responded, trying to jump in before Brennan could blurt out the first thing that came into her head.

Too late. Despite the frantic motions Booth was making behind the Reverend's back, Brennan couldn't help but interject.

"I'm very sorry, Reverend. I've had to quit drinking due to the pregnancy. And with the recent accident, I should probably get home to rest. Maybe another time?"

Not registering the frozen expressions on Booth's and Reverend Greenley's faces - one of trepidation and the other a mixture of shock and utter confusion - Brennan hailed a cab.

"Perhaps in ten months or so? By then, I expect we'll be equipped to have a bit of grown-up leisure time."

A cab stopped and Brennan moved to get in.

"But I thought...I mean you said...not until the wedd-" The Reverend looked a bit like Sweets had when they'd told him about their first kiss years ago - completely flummoxed by the overturning of the base presumption upon which all conclusions had been built.

Casting a look of apology at the stunned clergyman, Booth said hastily - "I'll call you tomorrow to explain" and then, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, followed his fiance into the taxi.


	12. Chapter 12

**Again, I apologize for the delay. I've been really busy and then the show kind of threw me for a loop - in a good way of course! Traumatic situation leading to an unexpected pregnancy...how do they come up with that stuff?**

**Chapter 12: Permission Requested**

"Remember Bones, don't say anything about the baby. Not yet anyway. Not until he gets used to the whole idea of us being together, I mean." He smiled weakly, very nervous about his son's reaction to their news.

"Yes, Booth," Brennan replied with a quirk of her lips and a definite hint of exasperation in her tone. "You've mentioned that a few times already."

Then, not to appear unsympathetic, she slid closer to her partner and awkwardly patted his thigh.

Booth closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. How was he ever going to get through this? When he wasn't worrying about traumatizing his son, he was fantasizing about Bones. It was going to be a very long week.

Thankfully, a waiter arrived at that moment bearing a heaping plate of french fries.

Brennan and Booth were seated at a table in the Royal Diner waiting for Parker to arrive. He'd worked all day while Bones had reluctantly stayed at home, though he doubted in bed, given the satisfied look she'd had on her face when he'd asked how her latest book was coming along.

Rebecca had promised to bring Parker to the diner for dinner tonight. He'd told his ex-girlfriend about the drastic changes in his life over the past few days when he'd called, as not only did he need to talk to Parker, but also he wanted Parker at the wedding - _in_ the wedding actually - so they'd need to rearrange the visitation schedule. His next weekend with the boy was not supposed to be for two more weeks.

He'd been surprised when Rebecca's first reaction to the announcement that he and Bones were getting married was, "It's about time!"

"Why is everyone saying that?" he inquired, genuinely perplexed. Except for Sweets and Gordon Gordon, he'd kept his feelings for his partner to himself. At least he thought he had.

"My goodness, Seeley, everyone could see that you had been mooning over your partner for years, well, at least those of us who knew you could see it. Even Parker asked me from time to time why Bones wasn't your girlfriend."

Booth merely grunted in response as Rebecca rushed on.

"Not the wedding I mean, that is a bit of a surprise, but you two together. I can't believe how long that took!"

Rebecca knew enough about Bones and her beliefs to question the need for making it official. And so quickly too.

"Either you're afraid she'll run away or else she's pregnant," she paused to chuckle at her own joke.

When the other end of the phone remained silent for too long, her amusement changed to complete shock. "No way! Seeley, not again! It's been ten years, haven't you learned anything about using protection?"

"Rebecca, it's not, I mean, it wasn't-"

"Forget it, Seeley, I'm the last person you need to explain it to," she soothed, "Besides, I really don't want to know the details. Been there, done that. We do have Parker to consider though. He really likes Brennan and I actually think he'll be over the moon at having a sibling - he'll want a brother of course, girls mostly just get in the way still, but that will be changing soon."

"For goodness sake, Rebecca, don't give me more to worry about!"

She laughed. "I"m just wondering how you will explain the marriage. You and I had a baby without getting married, and we've managed to satisfy his curiousity about that pretty well so far. He has two parents who love him but don't love each other in the way required to get married, etc. etc. He's fine with that, especially seeing what some of his friends have gone through when their parents have gotten divorced. But he could get confused if you link the baby and the marriage too closely. Kids' thought processes are unpredictable at best. You know how they often blame themselves for their parents' problems, even when they have nothing to do with it. I just don't want Parker to somehow conclude that you must love the new baby more than you love him because you are marrying Dr. Brennan."

"I hadn't thought of that. Just to be safe we'll have to hold off on telling him about the baby until after the wedding. That shouldn't be too difficult. Not very many people know at this point and we can ask them not to talk about it when Parker is around."

"Based on some of the fascinating and marginally inappropriate facts that Parker has come back with after spending the day with you and Dr. Brennan, I would say that the one you really need to talk to about this is your partner, or I guess I should say, fiance. It seems her policy where Parker is concerned is to answer truthfully anything he asks. He loves that but..."

"Thanks, Rebecca, and sorry again about the whole farting termite thing."

"Your son was very popular for a few days there before the principal called him in..."

Booth winced, remembering that episode. Coming back to the present, he glanced at his partner who was digging into the plate of french fries. She planned on eating dinner with him and Parker but said she just needed a small snack to take the edge off.

Should he remind her again? Sometimes she was more intuitive than any of them where Parker was concerned. He remembered the time everyone was dancing around Parker's attempts to get a girlfriend for his father. Angela thought the boy was concerned because his father wasn't getting any, as she put it. Bones was the only one who thought to ask him outright why he wanted his father to have a girlfriend. A pool. The boy just wanted access to a swimming pool. He smiled at the memory.

"What?" Brennan looked up from the food she was devouring. "Did you want some?"

He grinned, picked up a napkin and gently wiped a bit of ketchup from the corner of her mouth.

"Boy, do I ever want some..." He leaned close and kissed the spot he had just cleaned.

Brennan didn't pull away, but before he could kiss her again, she whispered "I meant, did you want some french fries?"

"Umm, later," he said against her lips before claiming them with his own.

"Uh, gross!"

Abruptly, the couple pulled apart to see a disgruntled curley haired ten-year old staring at them, hands folded across his chest. Rebecca stood behind him, covering her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter.

"Hello, Parker, Rebecca," Brennan said without any apparent embarrassment.

"Are we late?" Rebecca asked, eyeing the almost empty plate in front of Brennan.

"Not at all, Bones was just very hungry, so we ordered an appetizer." Then, to cut off any possibility of Parker asking why Brennan was so hungry, he stood up and offered to walk Rebecca out. "Parker, tell Bones what you've been doing in science, that experiment with catepillars is very interesting. I'll be right back."

Parker sat down in the chair opposite Brennan and watched her finish the last of the fries.

"I bet you are so hungry because of the baby, right? My friend David's mother carries a box of Triscuits with her wherever she goes. David says her baby must be a vegetarian because his mom throws up if she eats meat. That's why she eats Triscuits all the time. What about your baby? I guess since you are vegetarian, it would make sense if the baby is too."

Brennan pushed the empty plate away and wiped her mouth and hands. Booth had warned her against telling Parker about the baby but since he already knew, she assumed it would now be appropriate to talk about it.

"I hadn't really thought about it, Parker, but I guess the baby will be a vegetarian. Of course, in the beginning he or she will only drink milk, so there is no real issue."

Parker stopped bouncing in his seat and suddenly looked serious. Brennan worried that perhaps she'd said something wrong. Maybe Booth was right to worry that the boy would somehow feel displaced. Well, she never beat around the bush with him and she wouldn't start now.

"Are you okay, Parker? Does it upset you to think of your dad having another child?"

The boy looked startled. "No. I'm not upset...it's just...well, do you know if it's a boy or a girl? I would really like a brother. I could teach him all kinds of stuff, like dad does with me. Sports and stuff, you know?" Parker bit his lip. "I think if it was a girl. Well, girls play with dolls and do all kinds of stupid things." He glanced at Bones. "I don't mean that the baby will be stupid. I heard mom say that it will probably be the smartest baby in the world. It's just that, well, would I have to play girley games with it if it's a girl? I mean...I want to be a good brother and all-"

In the face of the boy's obvious consternation, Brennan surpressed a smile. Like with the swimming pool incident, Booth had it wrong. Parker wasn't worried about being supplanted in his father's affection. At least not yet. He was worried about how he could be a good brother to a girl, a creature currently as foreign to him as the frigatebirds she saw on the Gallapagos islands.

Brennan leaned forward and spoke softly. "Well, Parker, I can only tell you about my own experience. If this baby is a girl and your mom is right and she is very smart, your little sister will need the love and support of her big brother as she grows up."

"Really, why?"

Unexpectedly, Brennan felt her eyes water. Everything seemed to make her tear up these days.

"You see," she began, but her voice cracked and she had to start again. "You see, when I was little, I was considered different by the other children because I was so much more intelligent than they were. Sometimes, the other children weren't very nice to me."

Parker nodded knowingly, having seen himself how the smart, nerdy kids were treated, usually by kids who weren't nearly as smart.

"I was able to ignore them most of the time, but sometimes they would pick on me when I was walking home." Brennan was surprised at how easily these memories, incidents she hadn't thought about for years, came flooding back. "It was odd but Russ, my older brother, seemed to have some kind of sixth sense where I was concerned. He went to a different school, but once in a while he would decide to walk home with me. His periodic appearances and intimidating high school glare protected me quite well during those years. I made it to high school relatively unscathed, thanks to him."

Parker nodded solemnly. "So, if I watch out for her, she'll like me? Even if I won't play dress up? I can do that."

"Parker, she'll love you no matter what. I just wanted you to understand that, even with the age difference and gender difference, your little sister will look up to you and probably even idolize you. If she's anything like I was, she'll try to keep up with you in everything, even sports." _No matter how uncoordinated she might be_, Brennan added to herself, remembering the number of times she'd thrown their frisbee way above Russ's head and into the bushes.

The boy crinkled his nose at that. "Maybe I could get her to play baseball then."

Brennan reached over and squeezed Parker's arm. "You are going to be a great big brother!"

"Bones." The ominous voice eminated from just above her left shoulder. She glanced up and saw that Booth was wearing a look of exasperation that he quickly tempered for Parker's sake.

He resumed his seat beside her. "So, what have you two been talking about?" The undertone in his voice clearly communicating that he knew full well that she had ventured into the topic of conversation he'd expressly requested that she avoid.

Parker to the rescue.

"I was asking Bones about the baby. I'm really excited about it, especially now that Bones explained how to be a brother to a girl. I don't have to do dress up if I don't want to!" He exclaimed with glee, bouncing in his seat once again.

"You don't... no of course you...what in the ..." Booth turned to Brennan, completely perplexed by the conversation.

She simply smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "He already knew about the baby."

Booth looked at his soon. "How did you find out, Bub? Who told you?"

At that moment, the waitress arrived to take their order. In addition to their meals, Parker and Brennan both ordered milkshakes as a special treat.

Booth decided to let the pregnancy drop for now, as they had other more pressing issues to discuss and he still hoped to keep the boy from linking the pregnancy with the marriage if he could help it, though that was probably wishful thinking at this point.

"Parker," he began, but hesitated when he felt Brennan put her good hand on top of his.

"Booth, I'd like to do this, if you don't mind."

Parker looked back and forth between the two adults across from him.

"What? Am I in trouble?"

Booth and Brennan spoke at the same time. "No...of course not... we just need."

Brennan squeezed Booth's hand to silence him.

"Parker, I have something to ask you and I want you to think about your answer very carefully because your opinion means a lot to your father and to me."

"Sure, Bones. What's the question?"

"I would like your permission. Traditionally, in our culture, a prospective groom will ask the bride's father for permission. But this practice varies in other cultures where different family members are consulted. Often, the oldest member of a tribe. For obvious reasons, asking a son or daughter's permission is atypical, given that those getting married don't often have children. Although in the Ma-"

"Bones," Booth said through gritted teeth, "Get to the point please." Parker was nodding and smiling but Booth could tell he really had no idea what Brennan was talking about.

"Yes, of course, I thought I was." She grinned broadly at Parker. "I am trying to ask your permission to marry your dad. Is that okay with you?"

"Cool!"

Brennan flashed a confused look at Booth.

He squeezed her hand. "That means he approves, Bones."

"The wedding is scheduled for this Sunday, son. We'd like you to be in it."

Parker's smile faded.

"What's wrong, Bub?"

"Will I have to get all dressed up?"

Brennan jumped in, relieved that once again his concern was something they could address. "It will be in a church, but it won't be too fancy. I think a decent pair of pants and a button down shirt will do. You don't need to wear a suit if you don't want to."

With that pronouncement, Parker's optimism returned. Distracted by the arrival of their food, the conversation drifted to other topics. Parker seemed unfazed by the evenings revelations so there was no need to force their discussion back to either the pregnancy or the wedding.

As dinner wound down and Booth was sipping his coffee, Parker said to Brennan, "Can I sign your cast, Bones? Is it broken? What happened?"

Booth responded. "Sorry I didn't tell you before, Parker, we had a car accident and Bones fell out of the window. She's perfectly fine now, except for the arm, but the cast will be off soon."

"Oh," Parker said, considering what his father had said and seemingly trying to make sense of it. "I guess that's what Mom was talking about."

"What did she say?"

"Well," the boy responded cautiously, as if afraid he might get into trouble. "I kinda overheard Mom talking to her friend Charlotte on the telephone. That's how I found out that Bones was going to have a baby."

"And she mentioned the accident?"

"Not exactly. Well, I guess she did. I must have heard wrong. When Bones fell out of the window, she must have been knocked out, right?"

"Just for a little while, Parker, but you are correct," Bones replied.

"That makes sense, then. It sounded like something a lot worse when Mom said it."

"Said what?" the two adults asked, almost in unison.

"Knocked up," Parker replied seriously. "She said that Bones was knocked _up_."


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the delay. Just too many activities in the summer!**

**Chapter 13: Requesting Permission, Part 2**

"For Goodness Sakes, Max!," Booth growled, rubbing his jaw and glaring at the older man who stood above him, "Was that really necessary?"

Max extended a hand to help Booth up off the grass. "Yes, I think it was. Fatherly perrogative." Once Booth was on his feet again, Max reclaimed his hand and rubbed it dramatically.

"Besides, I think that hurt me more than it hurt you." He flexed his fingers. "Definitely bruised, hopefully not broken." He glanced up at Booth while continuing to exercise his fingers. "So, what happens now?"

Booth settled himself gingerly onto a nearby park bench. It had been a while since anyone had swung a punch at him and actually connected. Come to think of it, the last time may have been with Max as well.

Booth and Max had been casually strolling through a public park near the FBI building, a neutral venue that Booth had suggested, when the agent decided to just come out with his announcement.

"Temperance is pregnant, Max. I'm the father. We're-" Before he could inform Max about the wedding, he'd found himself sprawled on the ground.

Now, sitting on the bench and massaging his sore jaw, he squinted up at his future father-in-law. "What happens now?" he parroted. "What happens now is that I use every inch of will power I possess to keep myself from decking you. Bones isn't some teenager who got knocked up in the back seat of my car for goodness sakes. We're consenting adults, you know."

"Sorry Booth," Max replied, moving to take the seat next to Booth on the bench though careful to sit as far away as he could from the other man. No need to take unnecessary chances. "It's just took me by surprise I guess. I missed so much of Tempe's life, sometimes to me she still is that fifteen year old girl we left behind."

Booth nodded solemnly.

"Tempe hadn't started dating by the time I left," Max continued "so I never got to interrogate some pimple-faced kid coming to take her out. Never got to ask what his parents did for a living. I would have put the fear of God in any boy who thought he'd take advantage of my daughter."

Booth raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, Max, I get the point. But we're not teenagers and your daughter is more than capable of taking care of herself. It shouldn't have taken you too long to figure that one out once you two became reacquainted."

Max shrugged, a wistful look coloring his features. "Yes and no. Tempe is one tough cookie, that's certain. She's built a good life for herself. A great job, wonderful friends. Still, she has always seemed a bit solitary. Russ is married and has those two great girls. I know he has a family, whether or not I'm around. Tempe, well, I've always worried about Tempe. Even when she was little. Something about her just seemed, I don't know, lonely. Separate."

Max glanced sidelong at Booth. "And when you were dating that woman, Hannah, that feeling of separateness she had around her seemed to expand. She may have looked the same on the outside, but inside she was so sad. She denied it, but even the years apart didn't completely obliterate my fatherly intuition."

Booth stood up and turned away from Max. He couldn't deny that his head wasn't a bit messed up over all that had happened in the past few months. Proposing to Hannah, the breakup, getting close to Bones again, the pregnancy... He didn't put "sleeping with Bones" on the list as he still couldn't remember that episode clearly.

"Yes, well... She hurt me and then I hurt her. Sometimes that is what people who love each other do best." Booth looked over his shoulder. "I certainly don't have to teach you that lesson, Max."

Max winced but nodded. "Touche' Agent Booth." He stood up and walked over to Booth. "I like you Booth, despite our...uh...professional differences. But she'll always be my little girl. I know you love her. I saw that from day one. But I need to know that you won't hurt her like that again. You are an honorable man. If you tell me that you will do right by her, I'll trust you to keep your word."

Booth's mouth quirked and he lifted a hand to rub his jaw. "And no more punches?"

"Not unless they are deserved." Max grinned and gave Booth a friendly punch in the arm.

Turning to face his future father-in-law, Booth's expression became serious. "Max, you know I will do everything in my power to protect Temperance. I would willingly die for her. And, no, I will never hurt her again. I've loved her for a very long time. Even when I denied my feelings, they wouldn't go away. I'm in this for the long haul. I believe that she is too. So..." His speech faltered.

"So?" Max echoed.

"So...I want to get to the reason I asked you to meet me...in addition to telling you the good news about the baby. I hope you will take this a bit better than you did my first disclosure."

Sheepishly, Max raised an eyebrow and clasped his hands behind his back. "Look, no hands. Go ahead."

Booth shook his head indulgently. "I wanted to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage. She agreed to marry me, Max, but you know that I'm a bit of traditionalist. I wanted to ask you for your blessing."

Abruptly, Max turned and walked away without a word. He stopped after a few paces, his head bowed.

With no idea as to what had just happened, Booth remained rooted in place, watching the older man.

From behind, Booth saw Max's hands come up to cup his face, his shoulders shaking slightly. Booth blinked. Max Keenan couldn't be crying, could he? Impossible. The man was a criminal and a killer. What the hell was going on?

With caution, Booth walked to stand in front of Max.

Sensing the other man's presence, Max rubbed his eyes and lifted his head. "Sorry," he said with a shakey attempt at a smile. "I just never dreamed I'd be part of my girl's wedding."

Booth smiled. "I didn't get a chance to ask you yet about participating, though I would think Bones would want you to walk her down the aisle. Not to "give her away" I am guessing, as she'd likely find something fundamentally wrong with that aspect of the tradition. But Parker is going to walk with me down the aisle, so she would probably want you, or perhaps you and Russ, to walk with her. A nice family moment." Booth saw that Max's eyes were welling up again, so he hastened to distract him. "Does that mean I have your blessing? If you are going to be in the wedding, it must mean that you approve."

Booth's ploy worked. Max once again wiped at his now-red eyes and broke into a broad smile.

"Do I approve?" The smile vanished from his face. "Oh no!"

"No?" Booth exclaimed, shocked by the vehement response. "What do you mean - no - you just said you wanted to be part-"

Max made a desperate grab for Booth's arm. "It's Tempe, she's walking towards us. Quick, hit me!"

Booth started to turn around, but Max's hold prevented the movement. He could see now that the man was making a point of positioning himself so that he wouldn't be visible to someone approaching from behind Booth.

"Hit you? I'm not going to hit you, Max! Bones would have my head. Anyway, what good reason would I have for hitting you? You haven't murdered anyone or robbed any banks in the past few days, have you?"

"Very funny, Booth," Max said in a rush, his voice rising in panic. "You have to hit me. I can't let Tempe see me like this. It would upset her too much. She wouldn't like it if I got all emotional about her getting married."

"And it wouldn't bother her if I haul off and punch you for no reason? No can do, Max. You are going to have to come up with something else."

"Shit" Max replied, his agitation increasing. "She asked me just last week whether I had allergies. Well, there's nothing for it. Sorry Booth."

With that, he once again hauled off and slugged the FBI agent in the jaw. Booth staggered back a few paces but didn't fall this time. The punch was no where near as hard as it had been last time when there had been real fury behind it. Booth decided to take the cue. He wouldn't hit Max, even though the man had used him as a punching bag today, but he could assist in giving him a reason for his red eyes. Now at least, he was pissed off enough to do it.

Booth bent slightly from the waist, extended his arms and ran full out towards his fiance's father. He tackled the man around the waist and took him down to the hard ground, turning slightly in the fall to make sure they didn't land with Booth's weight full on top of Max.

As he hit the ground, Booth could hear the sound of running feet and a voice yelling, "Dad! Booth! Stop that this instant!"

"Are you okay?" Booth whispered.

"Just fine," came the equally soft response. "Hope you don't get in too much trouble."

Max sat up slowly and shook his head, smiling at his daughter in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as she neared.

In the remaining seconds before she reached them, he had one more thing he wanted to say.

So, keeping his lips still so that Brennan wouldn't be able to discern his words, he murmured. "I really appreciate it...son."


End file.
